


The Summer Vignettes

by boardpresence



Category: Jonnor - Fandom, The Fosters (TV 2013)
Genre: Jonnor - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-04
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-02 18:45:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4070611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boardpresence/pseuds/boardpresence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of stories from the summer of Jonnor</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Warship

**  
**

 

Jude sat on the floor of his bedroom, eyes closed, legs crossed, headphones on. He drew a breath, held it, and tried to clear his mind. He exhaled, still trying to clear his mind. He did it again, keeping rhythm with the roll of the ocean recording. Breathe in, breathe out. He felt like he had the breathing part down pat– after all, he had been breathing since a very young age. He had somewhat less experience in trying to clear his mind, and it was particularly difficult today. Breathe in, breathe out.

  
Jude’s ongoing attempt at meditating had begun a little over a week earlier. An old college friend of Stef’s had dropped by for dinner. By Lena’s reaction this had been unexpected. By Jude’s account it seemed that unexpected dinner guests were to be expected. The guest turned out to be a lively character, and someone to whom Jude took a liking. You see, the guest spoke to him like he was actually part of the conversation, and treating someone like they belong at the table goes miles in getting them to listen. In this instance, Jude listened to the guest’s advice about finding some balance and inner peace. Clearing your mind was what he had said, breathing and clearing your mind.

  
The day after Jude gave it a shot, albeit a shot that was doomed to miss. The constant commotion in the house was…counterproductive. That was when he spotted the headphones. It was Jesus’s old pair, snapped in half as a casualty of his careless packing. Jude set himself on repairing them, or at least convincing someone to do it for him.

  
There was actually little question about who would be pressed into providing that service. At the time, Connor had been home from the hospital for about two weeks. He was still laid up in bed on the order of some medical professional who clearly had zero notion of what it is like to be an active teenager. As a means of staving off the boredom, Connor had taken up building model warships. Connor liked it because he liked working with his hands, his father liked it because war ships were supposedly manly. Connor’s father had seriously deranged priorities. In any event, Connor’s new-found hobby had proven to be useful in training him in the fine art of super-gluing. The master shipwright would be the one to repair the headphones.

  
Jude arrived, as usual, just after lunch. Adam Stevens kept an enigmatic schedule that Jude had yet to decode. His means of avoiding Adam was to show up at the same time every day in the hope that Adam would notice and would want to avoid the encounter, too. This strategy had failed five days running and Jude was beginning to think his plan was possibly ill-conceived.

  
Jude knocked on the door, hoping it would be Connor who answered.

  
“Hi, Mr. Stevens. Is Connor home?” The words came out of Jude’s mouth before he realized what a silly question that was.

  
“Where else would he be?” Adam said, as if this was some sort of witty repartee. He stood in the door like he was expecting some enlightening response from Jude, but still his tone was a little better than it had been at the hospital.

  
“Haha, yeah, that pretty dumb to ask.” Jude let out a slight nervous laugh, punctuating it by slapping his hands down at his side. He looked up at Adam, his mouth slightly agape as if he was going to speak, rocking back and forth on his heels and hoping that he would not have to ask if he could come in and see Connor.

  
Shockingly, Adam obliged and said “come on in, he’s up in his room.” Adam let out an audible sigh as Jude passed.

  
Jude turned at looked at Adam, caught his eyes and said “thanks, really.” He meant it.

Adam nodded and added “yup,” before pointing up the stairs and saying “I think you know the way.”

Jude scuttled up the stairs in twos. He walked right into Connor’s room and said “Hi!”

Connor looked up from his model ship and grinned.

“Keep the door open!” Adam’s father yelled up the stairs.

“I know, dad!” Connor yelled back in a disaffected tone, rolling his eyes. “Every day with that, it’s so annoying.”

“Yeah, but at least he lets me come over.” Jude said brightly, hoping that Connor wouldn’t get moody.

Connor raised his eyebrows and said with a sigh of relief “for real, I really can’t believe how chill he’s been. You know, like, compared to a couple of weeks ago.” He quickly added “what did you do this morning?”

Jude was not entirely sure he was ready to admit that he had been meditating (or trying anyway), so he told Connor that he had been skateboarding. This was not a total fabrication, it was what he did most mornings. Jesus had also left behind his skateboards, giving Jude specific instructions to learn how to skate. Jude was partially convinced this was some sort of ploy in an ongoing war with the rest of the family about the skating detritus left around the house, but Jude had obliged. He liked it.

“I think it’s funny you’re becoming, like, a skater.” Connor said with a smile.

Jude titled his head and peaked his eyebrow, “All right there, captain Ahab.” Jude did not understand that reference, but he heard Brandon say it a bunch.

Connor laughed, “You are such a dork.” Connor did not understand the reference, either.

Jude whipped out the headphones. “So…can you fix these?” Jude swapped out the model ship for the headphones on Connor’s bedside work table. He looked at

Connor and exaggeratedly fluttered his eyes and said in a sticky sweet voice, “for me?”

The boys looked at each other and just burst out laughing. Connor proceeded to patch up the headphones as Jude narrated the terrible events that would definitely befall the sailors on the miniature USS Enterprise on its maiden voyage. Their fate, too gruesome to detail, left the pair giggling as Connor joined in on the narration.

They sat and talked for a while, resting their backs on the wall next to the bed, Connor with his arm over Jude’s shoulder, Jude’s head tucked up against Connor, just passing the afternoon. This was how they had spent their time since Connor came home from the hospital, just keeping each other company and planning the rest of their summer.

As it came time for Jude to be leaving, Connor got back to making his model aircraft carrier. He was just putting together some airplanes as Jude got off the bed. Jude leaned down to give him a goodbye kiss and Connor’s hand came up to Jude’s face. It promptly stuck to his cheek.

“Oh shit.” This was not the first time those words had been uttered in connection with the use of super glue. “I guess it was on my hands.” Connor grimaced sheepishly.

“Ummm…” Jude pursed his lips, “…. so what do we do?” His voice inflected up, really questioning the next move.

Connor’s face glazed over a little before he perked up again. “Oh! Nail polish remover will take it off.”

“Great, do you have any?”

“Yes.” Connor didn’t move.

“Aaannd where is it?” Jude asked, a little terrified that Connor might say that it was at Jude’s house.

“The bathroom.”

“Oh, ok!” Jude was relieved.

“Actually, it’s in my dad’s bathroom.”

Jude was no longer relieved. No one wants to go into the dragon’s lair.

Connor could see the worry on Jude’s face, “we can be quiet, my dad probably fell asleep watching golf.” They came up with a plan. A terrible plan, to be sure, but the thought was there. And isn’t that what matters?

The boys maneuvered themselves into an awkward, but nevertheless upright position. Jude was basically hugging Connor, but lifting from his armpits, trying to keep weight off his foot. Connor’s right arm was up at an awkward angle, his hand flat against Jude’s cheek. They agreed that Jude should walk backwards and that Connor would hop along and be the navigator. They set off toward Adam’s bedroom with all the grace of a rhinoceros attempting to dance Swan Lake.

Jude laughed first. It was one of those sniggering, snorting laughs.

“Shhhhh,” Connor hissed. He suppressed a giggle into Jude’s shoulder.

“Shhhhhhhhhhh, yourself,” Jude hissed back, “tell me where we’re going.”

“I told you, my dad’s bathroom.”

“Yes, genius, but I don’t know where it is!” Jude whispered loudly. They were in the hallway that connected the bedrooms.

“What, you haven’t been hanging out in there with my dad?” Connor deadpanned at a clearly audible volume.

They lost it. They were convulsing with laughter, trying desperately to catch their breath. Most people would have stopped moving and attempted to contain themselves before resuming what was supposed to be a stealth mission, but not these two. No, they determinedly kept lurching backwards. Jude kept moving, increasingly and perilously quickly, and Connor the navigator simply abandoned his post. Their clumsy Titanic met its iceberg in the form of a side table in the hallway.

They fell to the floor along with the side table and the lamp on top of it. This was no longer a covert operation. They were splayed on the floor, Connor basically on top of Jude, his hand still stuck to Jude’s face. Tears were streaming down their faces, unable to speak from laughing.

The only person who was not amused by this was Adam, who upon hearing the unmistakable sound of teenagers breaking things, bolted up the stairs.

“What is going on up here?” Adam said forcefully, but not angrily. He surveyed the wreckage.

“SOS Dad,” Connor choked out, trying to catch his breath, “stuck to Jude, cannot move, send help.” The boys’ laughter did not abate.

“That’s enough!” Adam barked this time. This quieted them. “You know, I let Jude come over and this is how you repay me? I’m willing to put up with, this, this…whatever it is you think that you feel, but I’m not going to allow you guys to use it as an excuse to destroy my house.”

“Dad, no, it’s not that!” Connor yelped. He explained what happened, though he felt it best to leave out certain details. Connor saw no reason to goad him on. They got themselves cleaned up and both apologized profusely.

Adam was not satisfied. “Connor, If you can’t handle using super glue, then I’m not sure you should have it. Also, you need to do your summer reading, and I bet your moms would say the same thing to you, Jude. I think you two are done for a little while.”

“What do you mean we’re done for a little while?” Connor’s face was shrunken, he was imploring with his father.

“I’m not saying you can’t see each other forever, but maybe you guys need a little break. I think a week is fair.”

“That’s not fair!” Connor said, his voice cracking a little. Jude was silent.

“I say what’s fair, and if you keep talking back it’s going to be two weeks.”

Connor knew when he was beat. The boys said goodbye to each other, sneaking in a solid hug and a little kiss on the porch. That was one week ago.

***

Which brings us back to now: Jude sitting on the floor of his bedroom, eyes closed, legs crossed, headphones on. Breathe in, breathe out. Clear your mind. This was really difficult today because Connor was coming over later in the afternoon. It was all he could think about. It wasn’t just that he and Connor were boyfriends, it was that Connor was Jude’s only friend, and he missed him. The meditation had been helpful. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in—then it struck him.

It wasn’t an epiphany that hit him, unless you want to call the rank smell of unwashed feet flooding into your nostrils an epiphany. Jude’s eyes shot open and all he saw was a foot in a cast, stinking in the way that only teenage boys can manage to stink. Jude looked up in alarm to see the perpetrator’s face, which expressed nothing but unadulterated glee. Connor really knew how to be charming.

Jude ripped off his headphones. “Oh gross!” Jude said, jumping up, equally excited to see Connor and to escape his malodorous foot. Flustered by the surprise, Jude tried to compose himself and said “I, ah…thought you weren’t coming until later.” He chuckled nervously, a little red with embarrassment. Jude couldn’t quite place why, but he didn’t want anyone to know about the meditating. Still, he was happy Connor was there.

“Surprise?” Connor was trying to work out Jude’s reaction, but with little success. He pressed on, “What were you doing?”

“Oh, yeah, um, that. I was ah,” he said, shifting his eyes around the room. Jude could not believe how hard it was to say the words that were presently being spit out of his mouth, “I was meditating.” He just didn’t want to talk about it. There was a lot he didn’t really want to talk about.

“Huh. My very own skateboarding mystic.” Connor said dryly.

“I’m not a skateboarding mystic. Why can’t I just be me?” His voice was strained, not sure why this upset him.

“Hey, yeah, I’m sorry.” Connor reached out and tugged a little on the front of Jude’s shirt. “I was just teasing, I didn’t think —”

“No, it’s ok.” Jude looked down, a little ashamed that he had snapped at Connor like that.

Connor was not sure how to feel, so he did what he did best, changing the subject. He raised his hand up from Jude’s shirt to underneath his chin and lifted it up. “I brought you something,” he said on an upbeat note. He shifted his weight on his crutch and swung his backpack around, reached in and pulled out a small circle of sticks with a cobweb of thread filling in the center. There were some feathers dangling from it.

Jude was obviously perplexed by this odd object, so Connor continued “It’s a dream-catcher. It’s supposed to make you have good dreams or something. It’s native American. I saw how to make it on Pintrest.”

“Oh, cool,” Jude said. After a heartbeat, Connor’s last statement finally ran through Jude’s mind, “wait, did you say you saw it on Pintrest? Like, the crafting website?” Jude could not conceal his amusement.

“Shut up,” Connor said, half joking and half not, “my dad took away my super-glue so I got bored and thought I would make you something. You’ve seemed really tense lately and, well, this is what I came up with.”

Jude was smiling. “Thanks,” he said, still not keeping a straight face.

“Come on, I’m trying to be nice,” Connor said, a little hurt.

“No! I’m not laughing at you, I swear.” Jude looked at Connor, reaching his own hand out and slipping his fingers between the buttons on Connor’s flannel shirt, using it as a resting place for the weight of his arm. “You make me laugh. You’re really cute.”

Connor looked at his feet, blushing. Jude mirrored him. Neither of them had really developed the words for this yet, nor had they really tried. It was still difficult. This was not surprising, and though neither of them could describe it, the fact was that this was still new to them, and the intensity of the emotion was exacerbated by the sheer novelty of feeling it. It’s like walking out of a dark room into the blazing sunlight—it takes time to adjust and really see what the world looks like.  
Not knowing what to do in that moment, they simply hugged each other tightly. After they relaxed their grip, the moment having passed, Jude leaned back and patted out a little drum roll on Connor’s chest, saying “what do you want to do today?”

“I don’t know, I’m supposed to be out walking and putting some weight on my foot again.”

Jude turned to hang up the dream catcher. He knelt on the top of his bed and tacked it to the wall above the headboard. He swiveled back and said mischievously “well, we could always walk to Callie’s diner and get some milkshakes…”

Simultaneously grinning, the boys clamored out in unison “My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard!”

“And they’re like, it’s better than yours” Jude soloed, pointing at Connor.

“Damn right, it’s better than yours” Connor replied, giving as much of a hip swing as could in the crutch.

The boys crowed in unison again, pointing at each other “I can teach you, but I have to charge…”

There is no accounting for how this had become a thing between the two of them, but some things are best left to the imagination. They set out for the diner, singing to themselves.

***

Jude awoke with a start. It was 7:30am on the first day of school. He needed to be there at 8:00am. He panicked. Why hadn’t anyone woken him up? He ran from his room and down the stairs. No one was home. How could they have left him in bed? Where were his shoes? He put on the nearest pair of flip flops, they were a little too big, but they had to do. Were these Jesus’s old flip-flops? He had no lunch. No time to sort that out. He grabbed his book bag and ran out the door.  
He ran down the street toward the school. It wasn't that far, but today it seemed to be taking ages. It was so much effort just to put one foot in front of the other. He was so angry at everyone. He couldn’t believe they left him. The neighborhoods passed by in a blur as he ran.

The din of the school hallways was overwhelming. The other kids were pushing past, getting to classrooms before the bell rang. Then it hit him. Jude didn’t even know what classes he had or where he had to be. He had no books. Maybe they were in his locker, but he had no idea where that was either. Then he spotted Connor down the hall.

Connor was saying something to him, but Jude couldn’t hear what he was saying over the yells of the student body. He worked his way over to where Connor was standing. Connor was pointing at a locker, silently mouthing “this is ours.”

Jude opened the small metal door. A cascade of model warships fell out and into Jude’s hands, tumbling onto the floor. Jude was shocked. He tried putting the ships into his bag as fast as he could, but it was really difficult with everyone watching. Connor knelt down and without a word began to help him. They were fumbling around with the models, unable to hold them properly. They just wouldn’t get into the bag. People were staring. He didn’t know what to do, he couldn’t speak. Panic set in, and he could see the same fear on Connor’s face.

Slow and deep, he heard Adam Steven’s voice say “what are you doing?” Why was he here? Couldn’t he leave Connor alone for one day? Defiantly, Jude managed to get the warships into the bag and stand up. Connor stood with him. They tried walking around Adam’s imposing figure, but they just couldn’t seem to get past him. A fury rose up from Jude’s stomach. The students were lined up against the wall, looking, silent.

Then he heard another voice, “breathe.” Jude turned his head and saw the dinner guest. He was holding the door open to a classroom. He and Connor walked toward the door. Everyone followed, dogging their steps. They began to panic again, but the guest spoke once more, “breathe and clear your mind, all things in their due time.” The classroom was dazzlingly sunny. It began to fill with the people in the hallway. Connor and Jude looked at each other. They didn’t know what to do, so they shuffled behind a desk near an open window. The waves were crashing against the shore, the breeze providing relief from the crush of the ever-growing crowd.

They crawled out of the window and into the boat waiting on the other side. The tide was coming in and it was up to the side of the school already. It took them out to sea.

***

Jude sat on the floor of his bedroom, eyes closed, legs crossed, headphones on. Breathe in, breathe out. He was not sure how he was going to clear his mind after the night before. He wasn't really sure how he felt. It wasn't good, but it wasn’t bad, either. Certainly a little disoriented. He got up off the floor, grabbed his skateboard and went outside. Connor would be there soon.

Outside, Jude lazily skated up and down the sidewalk. He wasn’t paying particular attention to anything, which is why he fell flat on his back when Connor shouted “HEY JUDE!”

“You were really spaced out there,” Connor said, “I’ve been waving at you since I got around the block.” He reached down and grabbed Jude’s hand.  
“Ahh, yeah, I was a little lost in thought.” Jude had turned a little crimson. Real slick there, he thought to himself, way to look good. “I had a really weird dream last night.” Jude relayed the details of the dream to Connor.

Usually when people recite their dreams to other people, it’s basically a chance for the listener to think about other interesting things in their life, like folding laundry. They respond with smiles and nods, adding an occasional, “oh, that’s interesting, what could it mean?” Connor just looked dumbfounded.  
“I, wow, I had like, basically the same dream.”

“Are you serious?” Jude was a born skeptic.

“Yeah, it was different, but the same kind of, you know,” Connor appeared to be searching for words, “so, like there was a part at the school, I could talk, but no one could hear me. And you were there, and you helped me find my books. And my locker wasn’t filled with those models, it was empty and you put the model in. The part with the classroom was really close though. That’s really weird.” He looked down at his feet and whistled.

“Was your dad in your dream?”

“No, it was my mom.” Connor did not look up.

“Are you ok?” Jude put his hand on Connor’s chest.

“Yeah, I guess.” Connor heaved out a sigh.

“You wanna talk about it?”

Connor looked up and smiled at Jude, took his hand and said “Not really, not right now. Right now, I just want to be me, with you.” Connor dropped Jude’s hand. He kicked the skateboard toward him. “Show me what you can do.”

“Ok, but don’t get your hopes up, this is probably going to be a short show.” Jude kicked off on the skateboard and executed a couple of pretty decent kickflips, followed by a short, but still respectable grind on the sidewalk coping.  
Connor clapped, cupped his hands to his mouth and mimicked stadium cheers. “The crowd goes wild! Is this the next Ryan Sheckler? Look at that stance, can he be stopped!?”

Jude skated up to him, got off and gave him a little punch in the arm. “Shut up.”

“No, I mean it. That was great.” Connor punched him back. “You’re cute.”

That feeling again, because it was still new. Connor ran his hands through Jude’s hair. Jude blushed. Even when it wasn’t new, it would never get old. They just needed to breathe, clear their minds, and walk out into the surf.

“To the diner?” Jude said, burying his head against Connor’s shoulder.

“To the diner!”

They looked at each other.

“My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard!” If the neighbors had been home they would have groaned at the two of them.

“And they’re like, it’s better than yours” Though they might have chuckled at Jude’s wild dancing.

“Damn right, it’s better than yours” And they certainly would have questioned the sanity of the young man with the crutch.

“I can teach you, but I have to charge…” But they could not have said that they weren’t happy together.


	2. Concrete Lessons

 

**  
**

“Jude!”  
“Connor!”  
“Juuude!”  
“Connoooor!”  
“Juuuuuuuude!”  
“Connooooooor!”

Jude and Connor had been yelling back and forth in that fashion ever since Connor emerged from the Adams-Foster house several minutes ago. Now, it’s not unusual for two people to yell greetings to each other with enthusiasm, particularly when there is some sort of appreciable distance between them. Lets say several dozen yards. Nor is it unusual for such people to run toward and embrace a loved one, particularly after a prolonged absence. Lets say a year or more. In this case, however, after a few minutes of slow motion running from the door to the sidewalk where Jude was standing, Connor was approximately 3 dozen inches from Jude. They had been apart for nearly a minute and a half.

Their tragic separation had been a result of Connor forgetting his baseball gear in Jude’s room. Like most days for the past couple of weeks, the boys hung out for a bit in the morning at Jude’s house prior to setting out for the day’s activities. Connor was off to baseball practice, and Jude to the skate park that was conveniently located in the same park as the baseball diamond where Connor’s team practiced. His cast had been removed a few weeks ago, shortly after an incident involving super glue and less than stellar judgment. After that, Adam had seen the wisdom in getting his son out of the house as quickly as possible.

“JUUUUUUUDE!” Connor dropped his bag.

“CONNOOOOOOOOR!” Jude leapt up into the air.

Connor found yelling Jude’s name to be really very satisfying. It was basically one of the only times that he could appreciably act like how he felt. The only thing he liked more was the present condition of Jude being up in the air. Jude being in the air meant one thing— catching him as he fell, then swinging Jude around and around in the air, heads tucked into each other’s necks. Despite what he saw as his numerous failings, Connor knew that this was something he was really good at. When it came to holding Jude, Connor was a goddamned professional.

It was really all he had wanted for a while. He was not exactly sure when it had happened, but somewhere between Jude’s adoption and that camping trip, Connor recognized that he wanted nothing more than to hold that brown-haired boy in his arms. It was a really intense feeling, and Jude had dominated his mind for months. He didn’t really know what to make of this new feeling back then, so in the grand tradition of young adolescents he just behaved erratically until the problem came to a head. Which in this case had been about the time when Jude’s foot made contact with Connor’s spleen that fateful Saturday afternoon. Then again when he got shot. Which, when Connor though about it, was really a little nuts. Who the hell gets shot because they wanted to kiss someone? This guy. This guy right here. After such tribulations to get to where he was today, it should come as no surprise that Connor took nearly any reasonable opportunity to swoop in and literally sweep Jude off of his feet.

The great thing about the word reasonable is that it’s totally subjective. For instance, where some people might call it a little odd or downright strange, Connor thought the following habit was totally reasonable: step one, lure Jude out to meet at some pre-determined location, like Callie’s diner; step two, hide in bushes along Jude’s route to said destination, lying in wait for Jude to roll by; step three, leap out from the bushes, pick Jude up off his skateboard, then just, like run away with him to anywhere. Whether Jude thought this was reasonable is up for debate, but there is no denying that Jude had developed a tendency to view shrubberies with ever-increasing suspicion.

The route from Jude’s house to the park where the baseball diamond and skate park were was fraught with hedgerows; Jude was skating in the middle of the street as much as traffic would allow. Connor walked along side him, Jude circling around Connor to allow for the pace difference. Connor carried his bag of equipment and Jude was carrying his backpack, which contained the boys’ lunches. After practice they would eat together in the park.

Connor very much enjoyed playing baseball. He still wasn’t in top form because of the pressure he had to apply to his foot in the course of the activity. His foot would have been in better shape were it not for his proclivity for ambushing Jude on a regular basis, but we all have our priorities. Not that his teammates knew about his priorities. They were his friends, but he was not confident that this would remain the case if he was more forthcoming about the nature of his relationship with Jude. Of course, if they turned on him because he had a boyfriend it would be easy to say that they were never really his friends in the first place, but that doesn’t do much to cure the pain of discovering they’re not. Whether or not Connor had actually articulated this thought to himself, he was nevertheless filled with dread at the prospect of losing his team.

In light of his fears, Connor somewhat reluctantly preserved the status quo. As far as Connor could tell, the team considered Jude to be Connor’s funny sidekick who would occasionally swing around for games. Connor did not say or do anything to actively create this perception, but he didn’t dissuade them from the notion, either. He didn’t know how Jude felt about this or whether he even recognized it, but Connor was not about to bring it up.

***

Connor made his way over to their lunch spot, a little picnic bench within eye shot of both the baseball diamond and the skate park. Practice usually ran a little late, so Jude was usually waiting for him. He arrived, and much to his surprise, Jude was not there. His eyes wandered over to the park. He could make out Jude’s figure gliding up and around the edge of the bowl, his arms craned up, hands bent down at the wrist. He heard the sound of his board pop and grind up over the coping and onto the deck. He was not alone.

Connor knew that there were other kids who hung out in the park and that Jude was gradually making friends with them. He just didn’t expect that Jude would be over there laughing with them, instead of over here laughing with him. He had already met the skate rats, as Connor had privately nicknamed them, and found that they were not a bad group. Teddy, Carter, and Brian seemed pretty cool, though the fourth one, Chris, really got under his skin for some reason. Deciding that there was nothing for it, Connor got up and strolled casually over to the cadre of skaters.

“Hey baseball!” Chris yelled out, it was more of a taunt than a greeting. Chris consistently refused to address Connor by his name.  
Connor saw Jude turn and say something to Chris. He couldn’t hear the words, but Jude’s expression had clearly just called Chris a total dickbag.  
Connor nodded his head, and snarked “Nice to see you, too, bro.” He walked up to Jude and gave him a little punch on the shoulder. “You hungry?”  
Before Jude could reply, Teddy jogged up and said “hey bro!” Connor and Teddy gave each other a casual high-five. “Yo, did you really get shot? Jude was telling us at lunch that you got shot.”

Connor sucked in some air, “Yeah,” he shook his head, “not fun.” He looked over at Jude “So, you already ate?”

“Uh, yeah.” Jude’s face flickered with that guilty look of someone who had just been caught. Jude put his hands in his pockets.

“Ok, that’s cool.” Connor did not think that was cool. The feeling was remarkably similar to that time Jude watched all those episodes of Archer without him. Jude was looking down, rocking on his heels like he always did when he was a little nervous. Connor was trying to work out what Jude wanted. “I guess that I’m just going to head home? Maybe I’ll see you later?” Connor asked in a small voice. The presence of the other kids was not making this easier.

Jude’s head whipped up, his mouth opened as if to say something, then it shut again. Almost as quickly as it formed, Jude’s quizzical look vanished and was replaced by a face of dawning recognition. He punched Connor’s arm a couple of times in rapid succession, saying “No, stay. Hang out with us.”

Teddy joined in with “Yeah, bro, you gotta chill with us.”

Chris sighed and peeled off from the conversation and joined Carter and Brian by the rails.

“Don’t pay attention to him, he’s just an asshole.” Teddy said in a surprisingly upbeat tone.

The next few hours were relatively peaceful. No broken bones, no one got shot, and everyone was generally feeling pretty good. One could ask whether it would have been too much to ask for this to continue, but you know the answer is that it is too much to ask, so why bother?

Connor had been regaling the others with the tale of the night he was shot. As he finished up, Chris said “God, that is so fucking typical. You just go out an destroy someone’s house for no fucking reason. You guys are all the same.” He turned and looked at Jude “you know, I expect that kind of shit from him,” he said pointing at Connor, “but I thought you were cool, man.”

“Dude, relax.” Teddy said, hopping up from the bench they were loitering around.

Chris muttered something under his breath, then said aloud “fuck it, I’m out of here.” He tossed his hands up and stormed off.

After he had walked a little distance, Brian got up and followed after him saying, “I guess it’s my turn to calm him down.” He sighed, resigning to his fate. Carter got up and offered to join him.

Connor was totally perplexed. “What was that about?”

Jude shrugged.

Teddy looked like he was debating saying something, then he opened his mouth “ah, well, look don’t take this the wrong way, you know you seem like you’re not a dick, but some of your jock buddies act like douchebags to Chris. He’s just really pissed off that there’s, like, suddenly another place that he has to watch out for a bunch of dicks giving him a hard time for not being a good little robot boy who plays sports and shit.”

Connor wished he hadn’t asked. He knew that he hadn’t tormented Chris, but he felt Teddy’s words like an indictment. Adding to his guilt, he could not figure out what Jude was thinking right then. He did not want Jude to think badly of him, but after that, it felt like Jude must think he, too, was a complete dick. He mustered his voice and said “I’m not like that, I don’t give people a hard time, I’m different, I—”

Jude punched Connor in the arm, faced him, and imploringly said “Let’s just go and give Chris some space, he’ll come around.”  
Connor nodded in agreement. The boys collected their things and began the walk back home.

***

As soon as the boys were out of sight of the skate park Connor turned to Jude and said “I’m really sorry.” He could feel the pressure of tears welling in his eyes.  
“Wait, why are you sorry? You did nothing wrong.” He rubbed Connor’s back, then put his arm around his shoulder and squeezed. They walked in silence for most of the walk back. As they neared Adams-Foster residence Jude, a bit frustrated with Connor’s dour demeanor, said “Will you stop it? you didn’t do anything to Chris. He’s just overreacting. You haven’t hurt him.”

“It’s not Chris. It’s you. I’ve been screwing this up since—” he could feel the tears again, the thrumming of sobs pounding at his chest trying to get out, he started over “I led you on, lied to you, called you a little bitch, made you sneak out, almost got you shot, basically cheated on you in front of your face like it was no big deal, and now you’ve made friends and I’m ruining it. And all I ever wanted is for you to like me like I like you, and…” Connor took a deep breath, laboring to control his voice, fighting to keep the tears in, “I want you to have friends, but I don’t want to share you. It’s so stupid, but…I was upset that you ate lunch without me. Like, I made out with Daria in front of you, but you can’t have lunch without me? God, I’m such an asshole.” He had been looking down, almost talking to himself more than Jude, confessing his sins to the sidewalk.

They had reached the porch of number 2330. The house had been serving as a safe spot for Connor, his refuge with the Adams-Fosters. The tricky thing about feeling safe is that it is often accompanied by lowering your guard. That’s when the tears come, and that’s exactly what happened the second Connor finished saying “I’m sorry Jude. I’m so sorry. I don’t want to be like my parents.” The words barely escaped from his lips. He dropped his bag on the porch. He cried.  
Jude grabbed Connor as he stood there shaking, his face wet with tears, the sobs coming up from the bottom of his lungs. Jude hugged him, Connor hugged him back, their heads resting against each other’s. Connor’s high pitched simper, like a crying puppy, was coaxed down my Jude’s reassuring whispers, “It’s okay. It’s okay. You’re not your parents. It’s okay.”

After what simultaneously felt like an eternity and no time at all, Connor’s crying subsided. He regained some of his composure and separated from Jude. He rubbed his eyes and gave a sniffle. Breathe in, hold, breathe out. He had learned that from Jude.

“So you’re not mad at me?” Connor said, his surprise showing through the remnants of his bawling.

“Of course not. Sure, you’ve made mistakes, but so have I. And half the stuff you said really isn’t your fault anyway. I’ve already forgiven you for the Daria thing. I know why you were doing it. You’re being too hard on yourself.” He put his hands up on Connor’s hair, combing it back, saying “I can’t believe you’re nervous about me not liking you. Like, it doesn’t matter who I eat lunch with, because literally all I do is talk about you and me anyway.” He dropped his hands back down to his side.

Connor chuckled. He titled his head down and scratched the back of his head. He said, “Yeah, I guess I was being a little silly.” He took a deep breath, puffed up his cheeks and then exhaled loudly. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Isn’t this sort of what being boyfriends is about?” Jude said. Connor didn’t know the answer any better than Jude, but they both had a rough idea that it was yes. They really weren’t doing too bad for a couple of kids their age.

***

Jude had decided that Connor needed some cheering up. The boys retreated up to Jude’s bedroom. They had just started browsing through YouTube videos of various things exploding, when Connor suddenly exclaimed “Oh! I want to try something. Move over and don’t look.”  
Jude eyed him suspiciously. Experience had taught Jude to be on his guard when Connor became inexplicably excited, but he turned around nonetheless. He braced for impact.

“Do you think Marianna would let us use her nail polish?” Connor asked, like it had already been concluded that they were in need of nail polish.  
Jude had winced at the announcement, not out of displeasure, but rather out of habit. He had been expecting to be carried down the stairs at breakneck speeds, which is what had happened last time Connor had told him to not look.

“Um, why?” He turned around and saw why.

Connor had been consulting Pintrest. Again. Connor was somewhat embarrassed by his recent fascination with the crafting website. Had his father been less of a champion of heteronormativity and traditional views on masculinity, Connor would not have felt so bad about this. Alas, we do not choose our parents. We can, however, choose what to craft. In this case, it was plaid nails.

“Connor, can you even do that? It looks really difficult.” Jude said, sideling up to Connor.

“Yup! I’ve been practicing.” Connor perked.

“On what?”

“My warships.”

“So you’ve been planning this?”

“For weeks.”

Had Connor been able to read minds, he would have seen Jude’s mind melt like ice-cream in the fiery bowels of hell. As it turns out, he did not need to be able to read Jude’s mind to know what he was thinking. Jude leaned over and kissed him, letting his mouth rest against Connor’s, he said “thank you.”

They collected the necessary colors from Mariana’s room. There was no question that she would have approved. She had actually been telling them to do this for a while. It’s where Connor got the idea. They sat down on the floor of Jude’s room, cross legged and facing each other.

Jude reached over and turned on the stereo setup that Brandon had graciously allowed Jude to borrow while Brandon was away at Idyllwild. It had a nice Bluetooth feature, so Jude could control it from his phone. His fingers scrolled down and stopped on Led Zeppelin IV. He had recently been introduced to them by the guys at the skate park.

Connor smiled as the slow percussion started, the harmonicas coming in, the guitars striking up. He started painting.

“If it keeps on rainin', Levee is gonna to break” Jude crooned, eyes closed, face up, belting it out.

“If it keeps on rainin', Levee is gonna to break” Connor sang along, his foot tapping along with the beat.

“When the Levee breaks, I'll have no place to stay” They sang together, looking at each other, grinning wildly.

“Mean old Levee taught me to weep and moan.” Jude wailed at the ceiling.

“Mean old Levee taught me to weep and moan.” Swinging his head back and forth, Connor sang out.

“It's got what it takes to make a mountain man leave his home. Oh, well, oh, well, oh, well” They sang in unison, their faces inches apart, totally absorbed in their own world, and nobody else was invited.

***

The next day was baseball free, so the boys decided to head to the skate park early. Connor wanted to give skating a try and they thought they could get in some lessons before the other kids rolled in. Connor was waiting for Jude on the sidewalk outside the house. He reached into his bag and produced a yellow plaid flannel shirt. Jude’s face lit up when he saw it; he had always loved that one and it matched his nails perfectly.

“Here, have this.” Connor said tossing it over to Jude.

“Thanks!” Jude ran up to Connor and gave him a big hug, leaping up and wrapping his legs around Connor’s waist. He kissed the nape of Connor’s neck and let go. Connor leaned in, held Jude’s chin, and gave him a peck on the lips. Jude put the shirt on and left it unbuttoned. Connor was delighted that his day was starting off exceptionally well.

As predicted, the park was empty when they got there. It is difficult to underestimate how long an adolescent will stay in bed in the morning if given the option. Connor was using a second skateboard that belonged to Jesus. He quickly mastered the art of standing still on the board. Being comfortable with that stage of the process, he kicked off. This was followed very quickly by a lesson in falling off, but soon enough he was comfortable with standing on the moving board and rocking to get it going roughly in the desired direction. Jude decided that it was time to learn how to do an ollie.

“Okay, Connor, stand still for a second.” He approached Connor. “Now, what you are going to do is, like, get going a little then do a little squat, jump up a little then kick down on the back of the board.” He was in front of Connor, demonstrating the move. “Just make sure that you lift your front leg up so that the board can pop up. Then you just level out the board and land on it.”

“Right, sounds easy enough.” Connor backed up a little so that he could try to olllie right in front of Jude. He got going, squatted, popped the board and proceeded to miss the board as he put his feet down. He landed squarely on Jude, staggering him. He looked at Jude and said “okay, maybe it’s a little harder than I thought.”  
Jude chuckled. “Yeah, its not really something you get perfectly on the first try. You did get the board up, though. That’s really good.”

They spent the next hour practicing and by the end of it, Connor could land a respectable ollie. It was about at that time that the other kids made an appearance.

“Hey Teddy.” Jude said, holding his hand up and giving Teddy a high-five.

Teddy looked down and said “Whoa, dude, that is some sick nail polish. Did you do that?”

Jude held is hand up and examined it. “No, Connor did it. Pretty awesome, right?”

“Bro, that’s pretty rad. Where did you learn how paint like that?”

Connor was totally surprised by this line of questioning. All morning he had been mentally preparing to get into an actual melee about defending those nails, or more specifically, the person to whom the nails belonged. He and Jude had discussed it on the way to the park. Jude was still not sure about how they would react. He suspected that they would be okay with it, and possibly even okay with Jude and Connor. The verdict had been that the nail polish was going to be fine, but coming out was off the table. Jude figured if he and Connor waited, the extra time might make it more comfortable for the other kids. Jude was just as afraid of losing these friends as Connor was afraid of losing his baseball team.

“Uh, yeah, I learned from a girl at school last year.” Connor said. He felt like there was no reason to divulge too much. Jude rolled with the lie.  
Brian and Carter looked on approvingly. Chris had bypassed this conversation and dropped into the quarter-pipe, looking to set up a nice line.

“Still a little pissy from yesterday?” Jude hazarded to the threesome.

“Meh. He’s always a little pissy. I wouldn’t take it personally” Brian said as he hopped on to his board, following Chris’s lead. It had been recognized by the group that Chris was definitely the best skater of the bunch. Connor heard them say he had really great style. He didn’t really know what that meant.

The day passed quite pleasantly. Connor was really enjoying himself and was getting better as the day progressed. He managed to bond a little with Teddy, Carter, and Brian, but Chris remained a tough nut to crack. Connor had even managed to try and work an apology in somewhere, but Chris was actively avoiding him and a big public apology was out of the question from Connor’s perspective.

A little after everyone had eaten and then returned to skating, Jude decided to attempt the line devised by Chris that morning. Now, Jude had become a reasonably competent skater, but had not been skating nearly as long as Chris, nor did he have his natural talent. It wasn’t hubris or vanity that was driving Jude, the decision was made purely out of poor judgment.

Connor had stationed himself along with the others mid-way along the course that Jude would be taking through the park. He was really excited.  
Jude dropped into the quarter-pipe. The line out of the pipe took him to the edge of the bowl, which was roughly kidney shaped. The goal was to gather speed, bank around the edge of the kidney bowl, then hop up on to a succession of rails that would take you out to another series of banks and on to more obstacles. The distance between the where you exited the kidney bowl and the bank up to the rails was short and at a somewhat difficult angle. It was possible to tell whether you were going to make it if you got a little air off the lip of the hump coming out of the bowl. Not making it meant bailing or having a pretty terrible wipeout likely involving your head hitting metal rails. Connor knew this because Teddy had just explained it to him.

Connor quickly re-stationed himself near the rails. He was now really nervous. Jude came out of the bowl. No air. Jude did not bail. Connor could see a look of panic on Jude’s face, like he had lost control. Connor did what Connor did best. With nary a thought, Connor leapt into the course ran toward Jude and deftly plucked him from the board. Jude clung to him for dear life. Connor ran a little ways and slowed down. He put Jude down and looked at him, smiling. Jude hopped back up and kissed him squarely on the lips.

“Called it!” Carter yelled, throwing both arms up in triumph.

Chris jogged over to the somewhat dumbstruck Connor and the very relieved Jude. “Yo, that was an epic save, bro.” He slapped Connor on the back. There wasn’t even a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “Sorry about being a dick yesterday. I guess I judged you too quickly.”

This was the opposite reaction to what Connor had expected. “Nah, man. It’s cool,” Connor replied. He really thought this was cool.

“So you guys are, like, okay with us?” Jude asked, hoping this wasn’t some elaborate hoax.

“Totally, my sister is bi, so I know it’s ok.” Chris said, adding “the other guys are cool with it, too. We’re not douchecanoes who hate people for stupid shit like that. What a waste of energy.”

With that, the conversation ended. Chris grabbed his board and went back to skating. The other three did the same. Jude and Connor kept skating with them until it was time to head home for dinner. Connor took Jude’s hand as they walked out of the park. Chris gave a hoot at them as they left, “yeow! Get a room!”

“So that was unexpected.” Connor said, pleasantly surprised.

“Yeah! Your team is next.”

“Oh boy. Let’s…not rush in here.”

“I can wait.” Jude gave Connor’s hand a squeeze.

Connor hesitated and then said with all the gravitas he could muster, “the important thing we need to talk about now is what song should we learn next?”


	3. The Cliff - Part One

One of the most difficult parts of raising a child is that there comes a time when you don’t need to raise them anymore. They are an investment, kids, and a heavy investment at that, but the satisfaction of seeing them grow is deep. And to see them become adults– caring, capable adults –is perhaps one of the most profound joys that a person can experience. Nevertheless, it is hard letting them go; a child outgrows their need for parenting, but a parent always wants to, well…parent. It is a delightful form of agony.

The first pangs of this sublime pain had begun to stir within Stef when she left Brandon to his summer at Idyllwild several weeks ago, but it was subsiding as she watched Jude and Connor playing in the back yard. In Jude, and also in no small part Connor, there would be a reasonably long-lasting repository for her desire to nurture. Not that she was actually thinking that, of course. At the present moment she was wondering what on earth they were doing out there.

The past several days had been unreasonably hot. The kind of hot where even the tourists and lizards start hiding underneath rocks, longing for someone to bring them a drink. They boys had spent the bulk of the day sequestered in the air-conditioned living room playing video games, entertained but growing restless. As the sun dipped below the trees after dinner, the temperature dropped and the boys risked the outdoors. The effect was immediate, though their behavior was inscrutable to Stef as she gazed out the window. A careful observer could have decoded their flailing as dancing, and if they listened very hard, maybe they would have heard something about the heat, calling the police and fireman, and making a dragon wanna retire man.

“So what do you think?” Stef was dragged back into the reality of the kitchen by the sound of Lena’s voice.

Stef turned from the window over the sink to look at Lena and Adam. They had brought the remainder of the dishes in from the dining room and were setting them down on the kitchen table. Stef rested her hip on the side of the sink, shook her hair to the side and took a sip of her wine. “Well, I don’t know, do you think they’re ready to do something like that?” She addressed to the two of them.

“I can’t imagine that they haven’t already done something like it, maybe not on the same level or as far as what we’re discussing, but they have had a lot of unsupervised time.” Lena said in an offhand manner.

“Sure, that’s probably true, but they’re still so young, and if they are taking liberties now, imagine what they might do if we condone it!” Stef retorted, “I mean, come on, they’ve already shown some pretty poor judgment, even for boys their age.” The three of them exchanged quick, pained glances as they tried to stuff the memories of that awful night back into the abyss.

Adam sighed. “Look, you know how protective I am of Connor, but I did this kind of thing all the time when I was his age. Those are some of my best memories of growing up. I want my son to have the same great experiences I did. Besides, if they are going to do it, now is the time for them to learn how to be responsible, and if it’s on our terms we can at least set some ground rules before they start making them up themselves.”

Stef and Lena were staring at Adam, eyes wide, mouths slightly agape. They had both noticed that Adam had been warming up to Jude and Connor’s relationship, but this was totally out of left field.

Lena looked over to Stef, hesitated for a moment and said decisively “I’m with Adam on this one, Stef. They are young, but we can’t always be there for them. They have to go out and have some independent experiences, and this seems relatively tame compared to what they might do if we don’t steer them in the right direction.”

Stef’s shoulders deflated, her body relaxed into a contrapposto, and she shrugged “I’m still a little hesitant to give them this much freedom, but I can see the value, and will submit to the wisdom of the group. We just need to be very clear about our expectations.”

After the three of them nodded in agreement, Adam walked over to the door and called the boys inside.

The boys ran in, looking up at their parents, anticipation painted thickly on their faces. There is nothing like the anxiety of waiting for a decision, hoping for good news.

“We have made a decision,” Adam said a little sternly, his arms akimbo. The boys were practically on the tips of their feet. Adam let the moment linger for a second before announcing “we will allow you guys to go to the beach by yourselves tomorrow.”

The boys spun to face each other, arms raised high, and slapped their hands together. “Alright!” Connor exclaimed. Jude let out a pretty solid “woooo!”  
Connor put his hands together as if in prayer, gave a little bow and said “thank you so much! You guys are so awesome, this is going to be so cool.”  
Jude swept his eyes across the faces of the three adults, he gave a wide grin, and said “yeah, thanks! We definitely promise to be good.”

***

The boys met up early in the morning, backpacks laden with the numerous supplies foisted upon them by their parents. Jude had only thought as far as a bathing suit, towel, and his bike. The recently formed entente of the Adams-Foster-Stevens clans had deemed it advisable to bring food, plenty of water, some money, sunscreen, an extra change of clothes, a blanket, a set of portable speakers, and a Frisbee. Hyper-watchful parents can be a real nuisance to budding independence, but in situations like this it’s invaluable to have someone who thinks of things like avoiding starvation, dehydration, and skin-cancer.

“You ready?” Connor was astride his bike, circling in the street.

Jude hopped up on his own bike and said with considerable gusto “lets go!”

Connor lifted his arms up of the handle bars and set of down the street yelling “beeeaaach!”

Jude let out a squeak of laughter and set off after him.

The beach had been Jude’s idea. Thus far, he and Connor had spent virtually every day together. Each morning they would go to the local park where Connor had baseball practice, Jude would go to the nearby skate park, then Connor would join him after practice. They would skate and hang out with the small cadre of boys, roughly their age, who also spent their days skating. This was all well and good, but since the time that Jude and Connor had befriended them, there had been precious little alone-time. Jude had decided that it was time to make that happen.

The boys pulled up to the first major intersection of their journey, a divided road that they would travel down for about a mile until it connected to a bike path that would take them most of the rest of the way. Jude pulled up next to Connor.

Connor looked over at Jude, scrunched his face to protect from the glare of the morning sun and said “hey, did you mean it when you said that you didn’t want to go to the beach near the school because you didn’t want anyone to see us?”

“Ah, kind of,” Jude stuttered, “I guess I thought they would be more likely to let us go where I wanted if I implied that we weren’t ready to, you know, be…more open?”

Connor opened his mouth to speak, but the cross light changed and the boys road off.

The beach in question was located some ten miles from the house, which had been one of the sticking points of the plan for Adam, Stef, and Lena. They had suggested a closer location, but Jude was adamant that this beach was the place. Jude had been there with Callie and Robert a little earlier in the summer. It was a secluded spot enveloped by cliffs that struck out into the water like the prows of twin ships. The entrance to the beach was located in a state park, across a hard to see trail, and down a narrow path that dove through the ravine formed by the convergence of the bordering cliffs that defined the cove. Most importantly, according to Robert this particular beach almost never had anyone one on it. In other words, it was ideal for Jude’s plan to be alone with Connor.

They had been riding for just over a half an hour and the heat was starting to escalate. They spotted a little picnic bench about halfway down the bike path, so the boys stopped for a drink of water and rest for a couple of minutes.

“Wait, are you not ready to come out?” Connor questioned after a few minutes of silence, confusion evident in his tone.

“Huh? No, it’s not that,” Jude stammered out, “I just…I wanted us to be alone.”

Connor smiled, his face lighting up with recognition, his lips formed a loving smirk and he said “is this a date?”

If Jude’s face hadn’t already been flushed from the exercise he would have blushed. He looked at his shoes as the truth of the matter dawned on him, then looked at Connor and chirped “yeah, I guess it is.” He flashed a toothy smile.

They had transitioned so seamlessly (in some sense) from being just friends to boyfriends that the traditional courtship rituals had been completely bypassed. It’s an easy thing to miss if you’ve never done it before.

Connor hopped up, turned to Jude, and said with authority “let’s get going then!” He grabbed Jude’s hands and pulled him up off the bench with such force that their helmets collided. “Oh, sorry.” Connor said as he adjusted Jude’s helmet back into position.

Jude looked up, his cheeks puffed with a mouthful of water.

“No!” Connor yelped as he skittered toward his bike. The arc of water landed on his back. He took a swig of his own water and swiveled to return the favor, but by that time Jude was already on his bike and scarpering down the path.

***

The trek down the ravine to the beach was unexpectedly difficult. The path was narrow and steep, and walking their bicycles down took some time. It was about ten in the morning when they finally reached the sandy cove.

The boys found a suitably dry and flat spot to lay down the blanket. Once their bags were unpacked and things suitably arranged to keep the blanket from flying away in the unexpectedly strong breeze, the boys got down to their bathing suits. There had been repeated admonishments that the sunscreen was to be applied, so they applied.

“Hey, uh, can you get my back?” Connor asked.

“Sure, yeah.” Jude squeezed out a glob and began putting it on. This should have been way less awkward.

After he had finished up, Connor turned and said “your turn. Your moms will be pissed if I let you get sunburned.”

“Connor, I don’t think that they’ll blame—”

Jude was cut off by Connor forcibly turning him on the spot and saying “You are way to serious.”

Though Connor could not see it, Jude’s face contorted into a quizzical look. “I’m not,” Jude protested and sassed back “um, I was the one who came up with the milkshake dance, remember?”

“Which you made me practice for hours!” Connor said laughing.

“Maybe, but only because you weren’t getting right. You’re supposed to be the athletic one.” Jude was making every attempt to keep his voice flat, but it was doomed to failure for his giggling.

At this point Connor had been rubbing the sunscreen on Jude’s back for an inordinate amount of time. Jude didn’t mind, his back hurt from carrying the weight of his bag for the past hour and a half, and the massaging helped. Connor slipped his arms around Jude’s waist and pulled him in. Jude let out a deep breath, and tilted his head back so that he was cheek to cheek with Connor. The warmth of Connor’s chest on his back was surprising.

“Ready for a swim?” Connor said into Jude’s neck. Before Jude had finished nodding yes, Connor picked him up and ran at the ocean, bellowing out like a soldier charging the battlements. They hit the water, sallying forth into the spray, then the water hit them back.

Jude was the first up after the wave had knocked them over. The ocean was warmer than usual, but still felt cool against the heat of the sun. Jude looked around but Connor had not yet surfaced. Where he was standing the water came up just over his bellybutton. With almost no warning, he started ascending at a rapid pace, and before he knew it he was sitting on Connor’s shoulders above the water. Connor tilted his head back into Jude’s stomach. He made eye contact and smiled mischievously.

As suddenly as he had risen, he was falling back. Connor was laughing maniacally. Jude was hollering in shock. He smacked back into the water. Floundering, Jude pushed away from Connor as quickly as his legs could thrash through the water. He righted himself and found the compacted sand of the ocean floor. He snapped his legs together and scanned the water for signs of another ambush.

Connor was running out of the water. He turned and yelled to Jude “Frisbee!”

Jude shrugged and proceeded to follow him, but Connor flapped at him to stay. The Frisbee was retrieved and flung out to Jude, who jumped up out of the water and caught it. In Jude’s mind this was nothing short of an athletic miracle.

“Good catch!’ Connor said, clapping and jogging back toward Jude.

Jude held the Frisbee to his stomach, extended his other arm out to his side and gave a bow. Once again the Pacific had its say, pummeling Jude and propelling him face-first down into the water. His head hit the ocean floor. Hard.

Jude struggled to get up, feeling a little dizzy from the impact. Another wave came and pushed him down again. His mouth filled with salt water and sand. Strong arms reached under his own and pulled him up. He spat out the contents of his mouth. He could feel his lungs and throat constricting in that way that presages tears. He was physically hurt, embarrassed at appearing so flimsy, and worried that Connor would see it. The feelings worked a vicious cycle, culminating in a very nearly crying Jude.

“Hey,” Connor said softly, combing the sand out of Jude’s hair “you okay?”

Jude eked out a small laugh over his inchoate tears and nodded yes.

Connor wrapped his arms around Jude, the surf rolling against their legs. Jude looked at Connor’s face. The smile. The eyes. Jude wanted that face to look at him, and to look back at it, knowing that it would always be there. Would it always be there?

Jude had never felt this way before, so exposed, so vulnerable. He mastered the emotion, burying it. Their lips met, lingered, then slowly and awkwardly began an ancient dance. Was it love? He didn’t know, but it pried at him. He didn’t care what anybody thought of him, he was a citadel, but Connor had found a way in.

 

 

  
  



	4. The Cliff - Part Two

Whatever Jude had been feeling at the outset of his kiss with Connor had been almost entirely mitigated by the act. Indeed, only thing that could have separated them was a sharp shock to the senses, which was delivered to them by an ocean indifferent to their reverie. The human sinus can take only so much salt water.  
Jude and Connor, reeling from the intensity of the moment and the subsequent invasion of their mouths and nostrils by the sea, pulled apart spitting and coughing. Amid the sputtering, Jude poked his boyfriend in the chest and punctuated his fingers at the beach.

“Not going to argue,” Connor responded instantly. He turned and yelled “run away!”

“Run away!” Jude cried, bounding after Connor, wildly waiving his arms.

The menace of the tides behind them, Connor stood by the blankets, arms akimbo, glancing up at the cliff to the north, his jaw thrust out like a proud general.

“What now, great leader?” Jude said sardonically.

Connor’s eyes narrowed, still staring at the cliff. A phytoplankton, still clinging for dear life in the upper reaches of Connor’s nasal passage, was the only witness to the idea now forming in its host. Had said phytoplankton been able to speak, it would have said “ugh.” Not very articulate, phytoplankton.

“Let’s climb the cliff!” Connor said, relaxing his arms and looking at Jude. His eyes were lit wide, his mouth slightly open in a grin that anticipated Jude’s approval.

“Ahhh, I don’t know.” Jude said, drawing out the syllables. He set his eyes on the challenge.

Jude eyed the precipice, assessing whether it could be done. The cliff was imposing, but not insurmountable. It rose dramatically over the beach, but was cut back and scarred from years of erosion and falling rocks. It’s face was dotted with tiny trees and scrubby vegetation used to survival on nothing but trickles of water. There were plenty of places to grab, and almost a distinct path. He could do this with Connor.

Connor looked at Jude’s furrowed brow and instinctively said “hey, we don’t have to, it was just an idea.”

Jude glanced back at Connor and said simply “no, lets do it. We’ll regret it if we don’t.” He smiled. “We should pack up our things and bring them, though.”

“Yeah, we can eat lunch up there!” Connor said, flexing his eyebrows.

The decision being made, the boys packed up their gear, put on their backpacks, and made their way to the cliff. The beach blended into the foot of the cliff; rocks were strewn about its base. The boys had remained in their bathing suits, only bothering to put on their sneakers to protect against the sharp crenellations that enveloped the boulders and cliff. Connor looked at Jude, who returned the favor.

“Ready?” Said Jude.

“Let’s do it.” Connor replied.

They began their ascent. There was no clear path immediately from the beach, so Jude jumped up on to a large boulder, flecked with bluish quartz, that promised a good starting point. It was crumbled beneath his hands as he was scampering up and he fell backwards, yelping. Connor jumped forward and caught him.

“Whoa there!” Connor said, steadying Jude’s back.

Jude’s feet were still planted on the boulder’s surface. Connor gave a push and Jude was upright, able to pull himself to the top of the rock. Jude turned, smiled at Connor and reached his arms out, “grab my hands, I can help you up from here.”

Connor extended his arms to Jude’s and leveraged himself up the boulder with his feet. From the top of the rock there was a relatively evenly graded expanse that rose up the cliff toward the ocean. “I can’t believe my dad said this was okay.” Connor said, adjusting his backpack, “I mean, he really was a total douche about you before.”

Jude clutched his own bag back into position. He stopped for a second, saying “yeah, I guess he changed his mind?” He cocked his head to the side and shrugged his shoulders.

“Yeah. I guess,” Connor said, more than a little confused about how that happened, if it did. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” Jude invited.

“I know you don’t like labels and everything, but, like, when did you know you were gay?” Connor’s thumbs were tucked underneath the straps of his backpack, his head slightly turned to Jude. Unbelievable as it is, they had never discussed this.

Jude sucked in a little air and hesitated, “I don’t know when I really realized I liked other boys, like maybe always? I mean, I guess I knew, like really knew, after that whole Maddie thing.” Jude took another breath, and looked at Connor. “Why? What about you?”

The path they were on had come to another roadblock. A small prominence in the face of the cliff jutted out over the route. A small network of roots snaked through holes in the rock, creating the simulacrum of a ladder. Jude climbed up.

Connor looked at the roots. “Do you think they’ll support me?”

“Yeah, just dig your toes into the rock.”

Connor clenched his jaw.

“It’ll be fine,” Jude assured, “just give it a try.”

Connor braced himself against the face of the prominence, lifting his hands up to reach for an agglomeration of rock and root. He thrust his toe into the sandy rock, dug in, and began his climb. It wasn’t all that difficult in the end, he just dug in one foot after the other, extending his arms up to where Jude was waiting, ready to grab his arms as he reached the crest. He mounted the prominence, Jude’s hands on his arms. They shared a smile and adjusted their bags for the next leg of the trip.

They took a few steps, Jude speaking casually “so, what about you?”

“It was the cupcakes.” Connor said, gazing down at his feet as they navigated the rocks.

“The cupcakes?” Jude lifted an eye, gazing sideways at Connor.

Connor laughed, nervously, as if it were a dark secret. “I…when you said that you had a secret birthday, I was really…I don’t know how to say it…” Connor paused, tactically hoping for Jude to say something, and Jude said nothing. “I just felt sick. I knew I liked you as more than a friend.” The apprehension in his voice could have frosted a thousand cupcakes.

“Why are you having such a hard time saying that?” It wasn’t said cruelly, or even as an accusation, but it was said with forceful curiosity. Across the country, the gears in large clocks in town squares were whirring away the seconds, and if you could have isolated their movements the sound of their hands clicking to the next minute would have been deafening. “Wait-” Jude said, stopping in his tracks.

Their route had lead to a sharp incline of fallen rocks, sediment writ large. Jude scrambled up the first couple of boulders and looked back at Connor, who had taken a slightly different route. “So why did you want to ask Maddie out?” Jude said, exasperation creeping up from his lungs.  
“I don’t know,” Connor replied, also a little exasperated, a little confused, “I guess I just didn’t—“ Connors shoulders went up, elbows tucked at his sides, forearms out.

“You didn’t what?” Jude was getting a little heated.

“Oh come on, you didn’t even like her!” Connor said in disbelief.

The boys continued their awkward jaunt up the unstable rocks. Each foothold was difficult to find, and the surfaces kept crumbling as they made their way up. This ascent was anything but graceful.

The problem with buried emotions is that they sit in the bedrock of the soul, and when emotions go tectonic the quake buries everything around. “What about after you told me about what your dad said? Why didn’t you say anything?” Jude demanded.

“Jesus Christ, Jude!” Connor snapped, “I’m not a fucking mind-reader! What was I supposed to do? I didn’t know how you felt, and it’s not like you said anything.”

“Why would I say anything? You were the one who kept mentioning girls in our class!”

“Yeah, well maybe I’m not perfect, Jude, maybe I just couldn’t figure out when to say it, maybe I was trying to keep my dad off my back!” Connor shot back.  
Their climb kept up, unabated by the yelling, by the slipping feet, by the bloody marks left by the sharp rocks.

Jude continued his tirade, “Connor! You kissed me! You fucking kissed me! Why do I have to bring this up again? Why not then?”

“You pulled away!” Connor’s arm sprang out, pointing at Jude, “you were the one who said we should stop!”

“You said you just wanted to try it, Connor!” Jude growled. “I was done with being hurt all the time, and I was right! You called me a little bitch, then you ditched me for Daria, so fuck you!” Jude was trembling, his voice wavering.

“No! Fuck you, you don’t know what it’s been like for me!”

They had reached the top of the cliff. The sweat was rolling off their backs, the sun was beating down, there was sand in their shoes, cuts on their hands and legs, and their mouths were parched, barren from the exertion. They collapsed next to each other on the ledge, legs dangling down to the rocks just below. What little spare water was left in their bodies was trailing down their cheeks.

“I know your life has sucked, Jude, but what, you think you’re the only one who hurts? Do you know how scared I was? I could have lost everything…I’ve hurt for so long. I’m sorry I’m not as strong as you, I’m sorry I hurt you, I didn’t know what to do, I don’t know what to do, I—” Connor’s head was in his hands, his arms propped on his knees, his words seeping through his fingers in sobs. He couldn’t continue.

Jude had tucked his legs up to his chin, his elbows bracing his knees, his hands running through his own hair, his voice guttural and sandy as it broke through “Oh god,” he shuddered out in a high staccato, “Connor- I’m so sorry. This is my fault. I’m just…” he trailed off, dryly sobbing, the water gone from his body, wasted.

Connor lifted his head up. His elbows were still on his knees, but his hands were splayed out and up, gesturing to the sky. “What are we doing?” he uttered.  
Jude picked up his own head, and brushing his hands to the back of his neck he said softly, eyes closed, “I don’t know. I’m just so…angry all the time.” Jude clenched his fists.

“With me?” Connor said, barely exhaling, biting his lip.

“Connor, no…” he pleaded, “I’m mad about everything else. I’m scared about what’s going to happen to us, I hate the world for making everything so fucking hard for us. I’ve always kept it in, and I’ve always kept everyone out, and I can’t even help it anymore, and now…it’s made me hurt the best thing that ever happened to me.” His words faded out in a high-pitched whimper.

“Jude, I’m scared, too. I don’t know how we’re going to do this, either.”

“I need you, Connor. I can’t be alone anymore.”

“I need you, too,” Connor whispered, “and you’re not alone anymore.”

They sat in silence for a moment before Connor slipped his bag off of his shoulders and on to the ground. He turned his body to face Jude. “Hey,” Connor said through the remnants of his tears.

Jude wrestled his bag off, adjusted himself to look at Connor, and using his thumb and middle finger he cleared his eyes, saying “hey.”  
Connor sniffled, chuckled and said “Man, we really suck at being boyfriends.”

Jude, his legs still tucked up against his chest, his arms still on the back of his neck, bowed his head and laughed into his knees “pretty much.”  
Connor stood up. He gave a little kick against Jude’s foot. Jude looked up. Connor extended his hand, smiling such that his cheeks pushed up into his eyes, and he said “Well, I guess we just have to practice.”

“Yeah, like, a lot,” he said, grabbing Connor’s hand. Jude rose up off the ground and stood face to face with Connor. “Listen, I’m really sorry about just now. I overreacted. Badly.”

Connor pulled Jude in, resting his left hand on Jude’s waist, his right on the back of Jude’s neck, their foreheads together. “Jude, it’s ok. You’re allowed to be upset, we were both in a lot of pain back then.”

Jude brought his arms together between them, biceps tucked against his chest, his forearms angled up, the tips of his fingers on Connor’s neck, chin, lips. “It’s not ok. I was wrong to be so angry with you, to take it out on you. You did the best you could and we…well you just don’t deserve what I just did to you. Can you forgive me?”

“Of course I forgive you,” Connor said softly, gently massaging the nape of Jude’s neck, “I love you, Jude.”

“I love you, Connor.”

They shifted their arms, sliding their arms over and under the other’s. Their heads each buried in the other’s neck, arms and hands gripping tight. Tectonic plates wish they could hold each other so well. Some time later, the plates slipped and the boys released each other.

“When did you get so tall?” Connor said, surprised, just now noticing that he and Jude were the same height.

“Uh, yeah, I don’t know…” Jude was equally perplexed, his brow was crinkled. Gradual change can catch up to you awfully quick. “You hungry?”

“Yes! I’m starving, actually.” Connor grabbed both bags and brought them over to a flat spot located out on the tip of the cliff.

The chosen spot was almost too convenient, but as anyone with any sense of history knows, any good cliff on the sea has a spot for a picnic. In an nearly identical repeat of the ritual undertaken at the beginning of the day, the boys unpacked their gear. They dug into their lunch of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, grapes, potato chips, and iced tea.

The sun was high in the sky by the time they had finished eating. The temperature of the air was still quite high, but there was a breeze raking over the top of the cliff that carried off the heat. After putting away the detritus of the meal, Connor laid himself on his back, balled up his shirt and stuffed it under his head as a makeshift pillow. “I’m beat.” Connor said, heaving a sigh.

Jude yawned, and let out a kitten’s roar as he stretched his arms up, arching his back. “Yeah, for real.”

“Come here,” Connor said, moving his arm out in a not-so-subtle suggestion that it would, perhaps, be a perfectly workable place for Jude to put his head.  
Jude, not being one to turn down such an eminently reasonable proposition for perfectly workable comfort, completed his stretch and fell right into place. Jude was on his side, his head on Connor’s bicep, his left hand over Connor’s heart. Connor kissed Jude’s head, wrapped what portion of his arm Jude was not using as a pillow up and rested his hand on Jude’s back. The sun had peaked, the breeze was maintaining its velocity, and thus cradled by the elements and each other the boys fell asleep.

***

Of the admonitions laid upon the boys prior to their departure from the security of the Adams-Foster residence, it was specifically stressed that the boys call or text or in some fashion make contact at least every two hours. This commandment had been dutifully obeyed at 10:00 am when they reached the ravine leading to the beach, and again at noon when they set off to climb the cliff. They would have called again at 2:00pm, but only a half hour earlier they had fallen asleep atop the cliff. It was now 3:00pm and they were still sound asleep.

There were two major consequences of the nap, and the first altered the boys to the second. The immediate result of the nap was to be woken from said nap via a cacophony of ringing phones. Even though neither could see their phones to determine the caller, they each knew. You always know when its your parents. There being no point in delaying the inevitable, they reached for their phones to end what could easily be described as very angry ringing. It was a festival of apologies.  
Connor had wandered a bit while his father berated him for his lack of responsibility and was just walking back when Jude let out a gasp. Jude had hung up the phone and was looking at Connor in disbelief.

“What happened?”

Jude stayed slack jawed as he stared at Connor, not sure whether to laugh or cry. “You…have…ahh,” Jude pointed at Connor’s chest.  
Connor looked down. Emblazoned on his heart and across his abdomen was the pale mark of Jude’s hand and arm, surrounded and made bright by a corona of lobster-red skin. It was distinct. “Oh shit.” Connor had said this before in a different context, and like that time, this wouldn’t be the last. Connor looked back at Jude and before he could stammer anything, he started laughing.

Jude, not a little confounded by the reaction, cocked his head and raised an eyebrow at Connor. Then it hit him. He looked down and saw that he was half burned, as in the entire left-hand side of his body, the part that had been fully exposed to the onslaught of UV radiation, was now very much a harsh shade of pink. As he moved his head to survey the damage, Connor laughed even louder.

“What?” Jude said as if he was expecting to be diagnosed with a terminal illness.

“Dude, I’d say we’re even- you have my handprint on your back.”

Indeed, there was no doubt where Connor’s arm and had had been resting while the boys had been baking in the sun. “Oooohhh,” Jude breathed, his mouth taking the shape of the sound. “We should probably put our shirts back on.”

With a nod of approval from Connor, they both nearly got their shirts on before the pain of the burns got in the way.

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen!” Connor screeched, whipping off his shirt again.

“Nope nope nope nope!” Jude said rapidly, his voice several octaves higher than usual.

“We should just sit in the shade for a bit. maybe it will hurt less in a couple of hours?” Connor suggested hopefully.

“Maybe…” Jude said, sensing that Connor’s optimism was bordering on delusion, “but we have to be home in a couple of hours, and the bike ride is going to be long, and the sunburn is just going to get worse.”

“Maybe we can get a ride from someone?” Connor was determined to have a positive outlook.

Jude’s eyes lit up. He began dialing anyone who wasn't their parents. Callie was at the diner working. Marianna just didn’t pick up. Brandon was still at camp, and Jesus was in Colorado. Jude’s eyes reverted to dismay. “I think we might have to call our parents.”

“Not my dad.”

“Definitely not.”

“Lena?”

“I guess…”

They stood there, wracking their brains for an alternative, occasionally starting to say something, but stopping just as quickly for realizing that it wasn’t going to work out the way they wanted. Just as the call was about to be made, Marianna called back. Jude commenced the groveling for a ride, and the pickup was arranged. The boys made their way to the entrance to the state park, took shelter amongst the trees and waited.

Before too long, Lena’s black SUV rolled into the parking lot, the sun reflecting off the windshield.

“I though Marianna was coming,” Connor said nervously.

“Me, too,” Jude replied echoing his boyfriend’s sentiment.

The car stopped. The driver’s door popped open, but no one was to be seen. Marianna walked around the door and stood staring at the boys. Her squeal was muffled by her hands, clasping her mouth. She lowered her arms and swaggered over to the boys, her hips swaying and announcing that she knew why she had been called. “You boys have been naughty, haven’t you.”

She wasn’t chiding them, but it was clear to the boys that she had something devious in mind. Both of them flailed their arms, attempting to swat away the insinuation. “No, we didn’t—” “It’s not that—” they spoke over each other.

“Well, the evidence says otherwise,” Marianna said, wagging her finger at them. “I’ll tell you what, if you two will help me with my performance at the carnival next week, I’ll think of not saying anything to moms.”

Panic passed between the boys, each looking at the other in abject terror of what that could mean. “What do we have to do?” Jude said, attempting to sound like he had a choice. It’s hard to overcome a total lack of leverage.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out, but I’m betting that its not nearly as bad as what would be coming down the pike for you otherwise.”

Jude and Connor nodded at each other. “Ok, but please just don’t say anything,” Connor said gripping his hands to together in equal parts praying and begging.

“Deal.” Marianna pointed the keys at the car, unlocking the doors.

The boys hopped in the back, desperately attempting to not touch anything. Marianna ascended into the driver’s seat, turned the ignition, and looked back at the boys, her smile worthy of a Disney villain. “So, do either of you have really short shorts?”

“Ahhh…” Jude intoned between his teeth.

“Oh well, we’ll find something.” Marianna chirped as she turned back around and pulled out of the lot.

 


	5. The Shipwright and The Navigator - Part One

Finding the perfect vintage outfit is essentially the practice of wardrobe necromancy. It had taken several hours, and Jude was sure some use of the dark arts on the part of Marianna, but there he was in the tightest, shortest shorts the 70s could have mustered. He was not wholly thrilled. Connor was ecstatic.

“Dude, these are pretty awesome!” Connor was leaping about the school’s gymnasium, his own tiny shorts clinging to his legs like, well, tiny leg-clinging shorts.  
It’s not that Jude didn’t appreciate the view, it’s that his own shorts were in the process of crushing his nuts into a singularity. “I’m never going to have children.” Jude whimpered, glancing down.

“Oh?” Marianna said, drawing out the vowels, “and just who were you going to get pregnant?” She questioned, strumming the top of Jude’s head with her fingers. “Okay! Let’s take it from the top ladies! Everyone in position.” She twirled on the spot, herding the dance squad back into formation.

“Hey!” Connor ceased leaping at her command, and was now standing with his arms akimbo, legs astride, grinning madly.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Marianna swooped low in a bow, her arms out like wings, “and gentlemen.”

This was their first dress rehearsal. Practice had been going on for the better part of a week. The regular members of the dance team were happy to be there, preparing for a show at the summer carnival– or at least one of the many carnivals and fairs that cropped up in San Diego throughout the year. It was uncanny, really, how often events like this happened. At any rate, the regular dance team was amped. On the part of Jude and Connor, however, they were there under duress. Or they were at the beginning, in any event.

Marianna had come to the rescue of the boys after a nap in the sun had left them with particularly incriminating sunburns. They had fallen asleep on a cliff-top, cuddled together, arms resting on each other’s torsos. They had also neglected to apply a judicious amount of sunscreen– or any sunscreen at all for that matter –before said nap. Much to their chagrin when they awoke, their dalliance had been etched on their bodies by the sun as pale tattoos of hands. Unable to transport themselves home from the cliff, and not wanting their parents to see them in such a condition, they called Marianna for aid. This did not go as they had hoped.

Upon sight of the boys, Marianna, being possessed of quick wit and a singular, ruthless focus on her upcoming performance, contrived a plan on the spot. She insinuated that their burns would be mistaken for evidence of *ahem* impropriety, and that without her help they would certainly face the wrath of their parents. The boys, being terrified, naïve, and hopelessly outwitted, agreed to assist Marianna with her performance in exchange for her concealment of their (in reality totally innocent) burns.

In addition to her ability to conjure the tightest shorts from the bowels of fashion history, Marianna was steeped in the arts of skin care and obfuscation of *ahem* impropriety, and thus able to fulfill her part of the bargain. Over the course of a few days and the application of various ointments and home remedies that may have involved eldritch liquids and unidentified powders, their skin peeled and was made whole and fresh. This process coincided with a tremendous amount of dancing, the promised payment.

At first reluctant, Connor had become rather engaged and happy with this ordeal. This perplexed Jude to no end. His attitude had been almost entirely unchanged from the outset. Nevertheless, and despite one or two offers by Marianna to let him off the hook, Jude persisted in showing up and making an effort. This perplexed Connor to no end.

Which brings us back to the rehearsal at hand. It was proceeding quite well, and after several flawless run-throughs, Marianna called it quits for the day. After changing into something less ball-crushing, Jude flopped down on one of the benches at the side of the gym. “You ready to go?” Jude directed at Connor.

“Yeah, let me just run to the locker room and change real quick.” Connor said, breaking off his conversation with Tia and bounding off to the boys locker room.

Tia waltzed over to Jude. “He’s really cute.”

Jude’s head shot up. “I…uh…think he’s taken.”

Tia clasped her hand to her mouth, halfheartedly suppressing a snort of sorts. “A, he is waaaaay too young for me, and B, I’m pretty sure I know who he belongs to.” A knowing smile broke over her face.

Jude’s mouth was moving, but no sound was coming out.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to say anything.” Tia said reassuringly. She gave Jude a little punch on the arm.

Jude scanned the room looking for the culprit. Marianna was behind her, shrugging, her face the very portrait of denial.

Tia swept her head back. Marianna’s shrug made every attempt to vanish before being caught. It failed miserably. “Oh, no, it wasn't your sister!” Tia looked back at Jude. His face was a mask of confusion. She struck a contrapposto and said “He didn’t even tell you, that little shit.”

Jude’s gaze drew back across the gym, hunitng for the only other person he could pin this on. “Connor!” Jude bellowed, totally exasperated. They had discussed this.  
Connor’s head poked out of the locker room door. “I didn’t do it!” Connor said instantly, then with curious trepidation “what did I do?”

“Oh my god Jude, calm down.” Tia said, kicking him in the foot. “You know my little brother Chris. He’s one of your skate buddies.”

Jude’s eyes widened, his eyebrows up in recognition, his mouth forming a little “oh.” It was a look he had perfected over the last ten months.

There were only a handful of people that knew about Jude and Connor. Jude’s moms, Adam’s father, Mike Foster, Jude’s siblings, Taylor, and the boys from the skate park, Chris, Teddy, Brian, and Carter. The last four had only discovered the relationship by accident in the course of a spectacular show of athleticism by Connor, who had managed to catch Jude in mid-wipeout during a devilishly tricky skateboarding maneuver through the park. The rescue had been rewarded with a instinctive kiss on the lips in front of everyone. It was surprisingly well-received by their compatriot skaters, though they had all vowed to keep it to themselves. Which they had. Except Chris, apparently.

During the course of the new friendship between the foursome and the twosome, Chris had not disclosed the identity of his sister. It was not that surprising, however, given Chris’s general disdain for casual conversation and small-talk. Compounding the issue, Chris attended a different school along with Brian, Carter, and Teddy, so for Jude there was no reason to suppose that they had any common acquaintances. The discovery of Chris’s familial relations with Tia meant the status quo was not what Jude had supposed. This meant other things could change, could have already changed. This complicated things.

Jude did not want complicated. His life had already been complicated enough; he had been cannoned about foster homes, changing schools, changing routines, changing expectations; even when he had landed with a family that provided some stability in life, chaos continued to storm around him, whether it was the ludicrous circumstances that seemed to haunt Callie (did she even try to avoid it?), or the wild uncertainty and confusion of whatever had happened in the past ten months with Connor. After all of this, after everything, the summer had been relatively calm and certain, and he had found some solid footing.

His decision to keep his relationship with Connor a secret held by a privileged few had been predicated on keeping the calm, keeping his footing. No conflicts, no harassment or disturbance, just him, his family, and Connor. All he wanted were predictable, endlessly repeatable days. He wanted to scream this out, to bend the world to his vision of how things should be, to break the striding juggernaut of change by yelling “Stop!” But all he could do was sit there grim-faced and silent, twiddling his thumbs, with his leg pumping up and down, and his heel chattering against the unyielding wood of the gym floor.

“Look, I don’t think he told anyone else, he just tells me everything.” Tia said, giving Jude another light kick. “I gotta, go, but I’ll see you two tomorrow!” She turned to Connor, who had just then arrived at her side, and tussling his hair with a cooing “ooooh,” she walked off.

“What was that about?” Connor asked, snaking his hands in between Jude’s, tugging gently.

Jude gave into the silent request and rose, relying on Connor to do the lifting, his composure returning along the way. “Did you know she’s Chris’s sister?” Jude’s said, his voice pitched high in the asking.

“No I did not.” Connor replied, punctuating each word, his tongue clucking the final consonant.

“He told her about us.” Jude wrapped his hand around Connor’s waist as they walked slowly out of the empty gym, side by side.

Connor placed his arm around Jude’s shoulder. “And you thought I told her?”

“Something like that.” It came out like the squeak of a mouse.

Connor leaned in and kissed Jude on the temple, saying “you know I promised I wouldn’t say anything.”

Jude stopped. He swiveled on one foot and put his other arm around Connor, who mirrored the movement. They collided together, holding steady. “I know. I’m sorry.” Jude said, nuzzling his head into Connor’s shoulder. He paused, inhaled deeply through his nose and said slowly, curiously, “Connor…why…why do you smell like” he inhaled again, “like a…coconut?”

Connor squeezed Jude, his chest reverberating with laughter. “My skin was really dry from whatever Marianna was putting on us. She said coconut oil would help make it smooth again.” He pulled his head away, grinned, and kissed Jude.

Jude slid his hands up underneath the short sleeves of Connor’s shirt. “Well, it feels pretty smooth to me, Coconut.” Jude said.

“Did you just call me Coconut?” Connor said in disbelief, their foreheads and noses still touching.

“Yup!” Jude said, smacking his lips together, annunciating it with a pop. He pushed off of Connor and poked him in the ribs, saying flatly “and you’ll be lucky if I call you anything else.” He strutted out the gym doors, turning his head, “let’s go Coco, Marianna is waiting for us.”

Connor stood there, his arms out at his side, “Wait! That’s not fair!” He beckoned after Jude, following him outside and to their ride home.

***

By the end of rehearsal the sun had begun is daily recline, its light angled, casting the shadows of the trees into the east. The oppressive heat wave of the past fortnight had finally broken, and the California air was mild, an evening breeze settling onto San Diego like a freshly laundered sheet, carrying the perfume of the ocean. It would have been serene were it not for Marianna laying on the car’s horn, Jude’s voice competing with the horn’s caterwaul with his own cries of “Coco Coco Coco,” and Connor giving chase to his favorite tormentor, casting threats at Jude that were totally undermined by his own howling laughter.

Jude dove into the back seat of the waiting vehicle. Connor followed suit, pouncing on Jude and pinning him down across the width of the car. Jude wedged his legs between Connor’s, braced his right arm against the back of the seats and heaved himself up. Their tangled mass capsized onto the floor of the car, lodging them firmly in place. Had either of them been able to move their heads in the appropriate direction, they could have seen Marianna’s wide eyes and slack jaw as she stared at them in bewilderment over the back of the driver’s seat.

“You two are such freaks.” She sighed as she turned around, got out of the car, and made her way to the open rear door.

“Help!” Connor choked out, “he’s going to kill me,” pleading with Marianna in staccato mirth, who now stood in the open door frame, her figure just a shadow in front of the sinking sun.

“You guys need more help than I can provide.” And with that she shut the door and returned to the wheel of the car.

The drive home was largely uneventful, save for the occasional squirming of the boys, who remained on the floor, giggling the entire ride. The car came to a stop in the driveway of the Adams-Foster residence. Jude popped up on his knees and rolled onto the seats.

“Wait, you could get up the entire time?” Connor said incredulously.

“Maybe.” Jude said, trailing the word out.

Marianna shifted onto her right arm and peered back down onto the floor at Connor. “Never underestimate the Judicorn.”

Jude’s face contorted from triumph to terror at the same rate that Connor’s expression brightened from disbelief to delight. Jude sprang from the seat, out the door and onto the grass, bolting to the porch as if distance could erase the moment. Connor, meanwhile, had managed to extract himself from the floor of the car and into a sitting position. He leaned forward, braced his arms on the edges of the two front seats, facing Marianna, still smiling, and said “Oh my god. Judicorn.”  
Marianna shook her head up and down wildly “yes, I know, it’s perfect right? He’s magical and mysterious.”

Connor, his cheeks turning red from the strain of the grin, narrowed his eyebrows and said in a stage whisper “his mane is full of secrets.”

“Get. out.” Marianna pushed Connor back down onto the seat and pointed at the car door. Connor made his way indoors, the sound of Marianna’s cackling voice at the back of his head “only use your knowledge for good!”

Jude had continued his attempted escape from Connor by running to take a shower, hoping now that time would resolve what distance could not. It was doomed from the start. Connor flew up the stairs two at a time and smacked into the closed bathroom door. He anchored his feet to the corners of the door frame and braced his elbows to its edges, squashing his cheek to the wood paneling of door. He began a slow, wavering chant of “Judicorn, Juuuudicorn, Juuuuuuuuudicorn” into the door like a demented ghost. Connor’s haunting was returned from the bathroom by the echoes of a high-pitched whinny.

“I can’t tell whether this is cute or insane.” Lena said flatly from the frame of her bedroom door, looking out at the scene.

Stef called out from the bedroom “they’re not mutually exclusive, love.”

***

Dinner had been consumed, pajamas had been donned, and the boys were splayed out on the living room floor, the credits of Mission: Impossible rolling on the screen.

“Not bad for an old movie.” Jude said, rolling up onto his side to face Connor. This had been the first night all summer that Connor had been the one to pick the movie.

Connor mimicked Jude’s roll. “I told you,” he sang, almost chiding.

“I should never have doubted my Coconut.” Jude said apologetically. He barreled over, docking in Connor’s arms.

Connor slid his left arm under Jude’s head, his right arm over Jude’s waist, his hand resting on his heart. Jude squirmed his back up against Connor’s chest; he wrapped his legs around Connor’s like a vine. They were alone. Connor spoke into Jude’s neck “Oh…my dearest Judicorn,” it was poor rendition of a southern belle, “I could do this forever.”

“If only.” Jude answered, grabbing Connor’s left hand and bringing to his lips.

The front door opened, the porch light spilling into the foyer, blending with the yellow glow of the table lamp next to the couch in the living room. Callie strolled in and tossed her bag on the floor by the stairs. She swiveled to face the boys, her fingertips in her pockets, elbows out, shoulders up in a shrug. She filled her lungs, “hey.” Her eyes rested on Jude.

“Hey Callie.” Connor said, lifting his right hand into a half-wave. He felt Jude’s legs constrict.

A moment passed. Callie’s lips were in a tight line. “Ok, well, I’m heading to bed.” She emptied her lungs audibly. Her hands fell out of her pockets, dangling limp at her side as she trudged up the stairs.

Connor’s fingertips returned to Jude’s heart, drawing circles. “What was that about,” he said, gently cajoling.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Jude said brusquely.

“Well, maybe you don’t want to,” Connor said drawing out the well, emphasizing the want, “but maybe you should.”

“Maybe I don’t need anyone telling me what I should and shouldn’t be doing,” Jude said anemically.

Connor brushed Jude’s lips with his thumb. “Jude,” he pleaded, “you have been acting really weird all week. You didn’t want to do this dancing thing, then Marianna says you don’t have to, then you said you wanted to, but you still act like you’re being forced. Now you’re not speaking to Callie. Like, what’s going on? I can tell you’re holding something in, and its going to build up and then you’re going to flip out.”

“I’m not going to flip out.” Uncomfortable memories floated in Jude’s mind, contradicting his denial in high resolution, but the fortress of his ego held fast for the time being.

“Jude, you lose control.”

“Maybe I feel like I don’t have any to begin with, like, I’m sick of everyone and everything having a say in my life but me,” Jude said, his words pregnant with self-pity.

“Tell me about it,” Connor said empathetically, “I’m apparently going to be playing on another baseball team in the fall. I hadn’t even heard of it until last week, but I guess I’m supposed to do that, too. Got to impress the recruiters!”

“He’s still on that, huh?”

“Oh, like, he’s up my ass worse than those shorts Marianna got us. He’s all, ‘you’re going to play division one, my boy’” Connor said, mocking some father from a 1960’s sitcom, a memory of a world that never existed, swiping his fist through the air. “Like, maybe I don’t even want to go to a school that has sports. Maybe I want to be an architect or something.”

“I didn’t know you wanted to be an architect.” Jude said, a little surprised.

“Maybe. I don’t know. I’m not even in high school for fucks sake.”

“I’m pretty sure there’s colleges that have architecture and baseball, though.”

“That’s not the point, Jude.”

“It is though, you might not have to choose.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Connor’s words petered out.

“I think you’d be a great architect,” Jude said sweetly.

“Thanks,” Connor replied, lightness returning to his speech “now it’s your turn. Tell me about whatever it is.”

“Alright.” Jude relented, sighing. He had hoped he was off the hook, but he saw in the moment that his assessment of Connor was right. Connor was a great architect.

The happenstance in question had occurred several days earlier. Jude was just beginning to learn the dance routine foisted upon him by Marianna. He was alone in his room, the music blaring, his hips gyrating to the tune in thirty-second increments. Hit play, shake butt, toss head, hips left, hips right, hips spinning, arms up, stop, rewind and repeat. Repeat again and again, then stop when you see your sister staring at you in total bemusement.

Callie was resting her shoulder on the door frame. “What are you doing?” Her question was inflected with a joinder of confusion and amusement.

“Oh, I’m practicing for Marianna’s dance thing next week,” Jude spoke as a matter of fact. “Connor is doing it, too. He’s a little more into it than I am, though.”

“So, what’s the routine?”

Jude explained the act, the (at the time unattained) short-shorts, the whole shebang.

“Do you really want to do that?” Callie seemed unsure of the idea. “I thought you and Connor were going to be low-key.”

“We are. We’re not making out on stage, Callie.” Jude’s hackles were rising. He could feel the current of the conversation shift, and it felt an awful lot like they were now heading for rough water.

“Yeah, but there’s probably going to be kids from school there. You could really get picked on for this,” Callie foreboded, her demeanor shifting from amusement to authoritarian, “was this Connor’s idea?” This was not the first time Callie had questioned his relationship with Connor. It did not sit well with him.

“No. Connor has nothing to do with it, don’t bring him in to this.” Jude did not want to have this conversation with anyone, but especially not with Callie. Her persistent doubts about Jude’s autonomy in the face of Connor’s presence was an affront to Jude’s ego, which, having the approximate size and firepower of a battleship, was not to be assailed by accusations of dependency. It was particularly true in this case, where the facts pointed to the opposite conclusion: it was for Jude that Connor repeatedly snuck out of his house; it was for Jude that Connor came out of the closet to his father; it was for Jude that Connor was willing to keep their relationship quiet; Jude felt that he had, in fact and comparison, risked very little for Connor. It was this last thought that was tearing at Jude.  
The audacity and injustice of Callie’s accusations in light of the facts had Jude’s guard up and ready to fight, and had Callie been able to see it in Jude’s narrowing eyes or his tensed shoulders, she would have not said “Well, I’m going to bring him into this. You keep making bad decisions to be with him, and I’m not going to let you—”

“Bad decisions? Let me? You, of all people, criticizing me for bad decisions?” Jude was outright yelling, his hands balled up and trembling, “remember that time you almost lost us this family, and that time you ran away,” he hammered on, harsh and relentless, “that time you fucking helped kidnap a toddler! How dare you lecture me about bad decisions!” We all have a primordial instinct to protect ourselves and the things we love, but the problem with instincts in general is that they are unguided and a little savage. The problem with Jude’s instincts is that they typically go right in for the kill.

Callie tried to protest, tears welling in her eyes, but no sooner than she had begun to speak, Jude cut her off again.

“I’m done with people controlling my life. I’m done with you. Get out.” The finality in his tone turned Callie around and pushed her out the door. They hadn’t spoken since.

Jude recounted the essentials of the conversation to Connor, keeping his inner monologue to himself. No small amount of regret had bubbled up in the telling. His regret had fortified and mingled with his resentment that Callie may have been right in some regard– there certainly was a risk of exposure and ridicule, the dance routine being what it was –but his obstinacy and sense of injustice about everything else dominated the mixture. It amounted to a churning anxiety that Jude could not quite identify. The whole thing left him speechless.

“I don’t know what to say, man,” Connor said, tightening his hold on Jude, “I guess it explains why you’re going along with Marianna, but it sounds like maybe you need to make up with Callie.”

“I know, I just want to prove to her that I can do my own thing and that she doesn’t have to, like, stand in front of everything for me.” Jude said it like he meant it, and he did, it just wasn’t the only thing on his mind.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Would you still be doing this if you hadn’t fought with Callie?”

“Yeah.”

“For me?”

Jude still couldn’t bring himself to mention to Connor how he felt about his part in the relationship. He replied “Don’t you want to?”

By this point the pair had shuffled themselves up and were sitting crossed-legged facing each other, their hands entwined. Connor spoke “Well, I do, but I don’t want you to feel like…like I’m forcing you.”

“No, Connor, it’s not like that,” Jude dissented, “I can’t explain it. I really want to do it, too, but I’m nervous.” He really couldn’t explain it. He knew it, but he couldn’t explain it.

“You’re really good though, you did really great at practice today!” Connor drummed on Jude’s knees. Connor was always ready to steer the conversation to something positive.

Jude shook his head and huffed, pleasantly, but nevertheless huffing “Oh my god, Connor.” Jude’s hand went to his temple. “I’m not nervous about dancing. It’s everything else.” The words that had escaped his mind moments earlier were now escaping from his mouth, unbidden and totally bypassing his usual editing “I just want this, us, our summer…I don’t want it to end, but I think it has to.” His spine crumpled like so much garbage in a compactor.

“Jude, what are you talking about?” Connor slid his hands up and under Jude’s chin, propping it up so he could see Jude’s eyes, so that Jude could see his. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“No!” Jude’s spine snapped back up, its structure supported by anxiety as much as by bone and ligament. “I just want things to stay the same, but I know they can’t. I know people are going to find out about us and I’m scared that we’re going to be hurt, that everything is going to go wrong, that people are going to find out and we won’t get a chance to be happy anymore.” And that was the crux of it. Jude wanted all things, to be strong and courageous for Connor, and to maintain the peace of their secrecy, but he could not have them at the same time. How could he be there for Connor, to take a risk with him, for him, without exposing them both? Even if the performance didn’t out them, something else surely would. How long could he hold on to the secrecy before it tore them apart? He couldn’t see a way forward, or he could, but the going looked rough.

“Yeah, but people already know and we’re still fine” Connor’s unbridled optimism is what kept him afloat.

“We know those people, they support us.” Jude flopped over on to his back, squirming, a little exhausted.

“My dad didn’t like it at first, but he came around.” Connor crawled over and laid himself across Jude, bringing their arms together, tangled and locked.

“Not everyone is going to come around.” Jude’s interminable focus on the myriad consequences of coming out was wearing on his energy. He had been so happy in his bubble just days ago, content to survey only his tiny dominion. Now he was being thrust out on to the ledge, forced to see the horizon of the unknown and acknowledge that he had to keep moving toward it, knowing that it would keep receding.

“We’ll deal with it when it happens.” In one smooth action, Connor hooked his leg around Jude’s, arms still locked, and rolled onto his back, heaving Jude up on top of him.

“How can you say that? We can’t just tell everyone and hope for the best!” Jude always loved Connor’s care-free take on life, but sometimes it was a little much. He put his head down on Connor’s chest and listed to the rhythmic thumping of his heart.

“Well, we don’t have to go around handing out flyers Jude. Why don’t we start small?” Connor pat out a little beat on Jude’s back. It was slow but steady.

“What do you mean?” Jude closed his eyes, blanketed by the sound of Connor’s heart below and the feel of his hands above.

“Umm, Daria is coming back from camp tomorrow. She doesn’t know. We can tell her.”

Jude’s eyes blinked open. He had actually forgotten about Daria. Not long after the end of the school year, Daria had left for camp somewhere in the northeast. Connor had broken up with her, but had not spilled the beans regarding why, exactly. She was to return within the next day or two.

“I’m still not so sure about this, Coco,” Jude’s contentions were being reduced to low, gravelly utterances.

“She’s going to find out sooner or later, and I think everyone is better off if we tell her rather than her hearing it from someone else.” Connor’s drum beat on Jude’s back had evolved to a gentle back rub, a fingertip massage.

“I guess you’re right.” Jude let out a sigh and closed his eyes again. He was utterly spent. Like decaying uranium, his recalcitrance had radiated into reluctance into acceptance. There had been some fallout, but he finally felt himself feeling a bit more stable. He always felt a bit safer in Connor’s arms. Part of him rebelled at how silly this was, there were going to be problems ahead, there was going to be some pain, but it all seemed so distant and bearable from where he was right now.

“We can do this, Jude, we just have to do it together. Maybe things are going to change a little, but why can’t it be for the better?” Connor’s hand wandered up to the back of Jude’s head, combing his hair.

“Maybe.” Jude whispered, most of the word getting lost in the cotton of Connor’s shirt.

“Hey.” Connor gave Jude a little shake.

“Mhmm.” His eyes fluttered open for a second, but his mouth remained shut.

“Do you remember that model aircraft carrier I made for you at the beginning of the summer?”

“Mmmhm.” The wordless yes was confirmed by a nod of Jude’s head, nuzzling at its finest.

“There’s going to be a real one at the carnival.”


	6. The Shipwright and The Navigator: Part Two

San Diego.  It is the home of about one million three hundred thousand people, two professional sports teams, a world-class zoo, several notable museums, an extraordinary number of endangered species, about two dozen institutions of higher learning, and one gigantic naval base. Of the population, Jude and Connor have not been together at any professional sporting event, the zoo, or any museums.  Nor have they considered the endangered species, or any role that the local universities may play in their lives.  By the end of the day, however, they will have become intimately acquainted with several acres of the naval base.

The San Diego naval base is home to the Pacific Fleet of the U.S. Navy. The fleet in its entirety consists of hundreds of ships crewed and supported by a cast of tens of thousands of personnel.  Today, however, the only ships that matter are those that comprise Carrier Group One, and principally the USS Carl Vinson, a behemoth of an aircraft carrier. It was the arrival of this ship at port—in conjunction with a sense of civic neighborliness and/or outright propaganda—that the Navy elected to host a large and elaborate carnival replete with rides, exotic animals, and live acts from local performers.       

Jude and Connor were part of one such act.  Jude had insisted that they arrive as early as possible on the date of their performance as to enjoy the carnival as much as possible before the performance, set to take place at 4:00pm sharp (the sharp part had been made abundantly clear by the officer responsible for organizing the performances). He was of the mind that the possibility of enjoyment was going to be obliterated by the conversation he and Connor were to have with Daria after the performance. 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Jude posed the question as a last gasp attempt to delay the inevitable.  It came out sounding like the whine of a petulant child who doesn’t want to take a bath. He was still not truly prepared for coming out, but he knew it had to happen.    

“Jude, we’ve been talking about this for days.  This is the best time to do it.”  It was evident in his tone that Jude’s continued objections were wearing on Connor.

They had been planning the conversation for days, though it had been in the making for much longer.  Après-shooting, the boys had finished out the school year with little fanfare, save the part where Connor broke up with Daria without explanation.  At the time, neither Jude or Connor were entirely on board with being public about their relationship.  Nevertheless, he still felt the pangs of guilt that necessarily come with severing any relationship, especially since he did actually like Daria.  Not romantically, but still, he thought she was pretty chill.  Or at least he thought she was chill when not being unceremoniously dumped without any given reason.  Taylor was nonplussed with the treatment of Daria, but she kept her poise and their secret. 

The tension was relieved at the end of the school year.  Daria was removed from San Diego to summer camp in Maine, and Taylor’s family retreated to their vacation home on Lake Tahoe.  All was quiet on the western front.  For a flicker of a moment just after the guys from the skate park discovered that Jude and Connor were more than friends, Jude fancied the idea of being more open. Then complacency crept into Jude’s veins.  For the harried, the status quo is like heroin.

Connor on the other hand, initially more reluctant about coming out, had made an about-face on the subject.  His father had been increasingly supportive, and with an otherwise generally stable life experience, Connor was ready to move forward.  It was like a really toned down state of being star-crossed lovers: ill fate, bad timing, and whatnot, but without the part where they die. 

The issue had come to a head several nights before the performance, as Jude and Connor sat discussing a recent blowout Jude had with Callie. In the end, Connor managed to float Jude up to accepting that coming out was an inevitability, and that the place to start was with Daria.  The plan was simple.  Both Daria and Taylor were due back in town before the performance at the Carnival. They would have Taylor bring Daria to the show, and afterward they would tell Daria.  It was simplicity itself. 

The boys approached the carnival’s entrance kiosk.  Admission was free, but the boys needed to pick up special passes that granted them access to the backstage area. They took the passes and made their way to the stage. 

The carnival was laid out like a fan emanating from the peer at which the aircraft carrier was moored.  The stage was directly in front of the bow of the massive ship.  As the boys approached it, they could not help but feel a little in awe at the scale of the thing.  It dominated the scene. 

“Whoa.” Jude and Connor said simultaneously.

“That thing is fucking massive.” Jude added.

“It’s a thousand feet long, thirteen stories high, and displaces about a hundred thousand tons of water.” Connor said, obviously proud of his knowledge.

Jude looked over at Connor “how did you know that?”

“Umm…I built us one, remember?”

“Yeah, but-”

“I looked it up.  I was really into it.” A satisfied smile crept up Connor’s face. “It’s got like a hundred airplanes on it.”

“I really liked the little jets you made for ours.”

“That’s why I made so many.”

Jude looked down for a moment.  It was an instinctive reaction to conceal his delight that Connor had done that.  It was unnecessary, but habits are hard to break. He recovered and asked “How much do you think it cost?”

“A lot.”  The correct answer is about four and half billion dollars, but in this context Connor’s tone carried the weight of the amount.

“We should try to get on this later.”

“There’s tours every hour.”

“When we get on, we should try to steal it.” Jude deadpanned.

“Did you just say we should steal an aircraft carrier?”

“Yeah, its kind of ours, right? Like, our parents pay taxes.” This made sense to Jude.  

“Definitely.” Connor quickly added, “where would we go, captain?”

“I think we could go anywhere we want.  Who could stop us?”

Connor pinched Jude’s waist. “Exactly nobody.”

With that, they turned to dump their bags (short shorts and all) in the backstage area.  “Do you think we should leave our phones here?” Jude asked.

“Why would we leave our phones?” He was a little surprised.

“I don’t know, maybe we’ll be in the water?”

“I don’t think there are any water rides, and I’m not getting into the harbor.” No sane person would.

“What if they fall out of our pockets?”

“Has that ever happened? Besides we have to be able to text Marianna and Taylor later.”

“Oh right, I forgot.” The lie was obvious.

“No you didn’t.”

“Nope.”

“Come here.” Connor scooped Jude up and crushed his ribcage in the most loving way possible. “We got this.”

Jude clamped back on Connor and said “Thanks.  I want this, too.  I’m just really nervous about things going wrong.”

“You just said that you wanted to steal an aircraft carrier.” Connor intoned as if to say that was much riskier. 

“Yeah, but we were going to be sneaky about it.”

“It’s an aircraft carrier.  There’s nothing sneaky about it.”

“Good point,” Jude said, “but its got a lot of guns.”

“It doesn’t, actually.”

“Really? Are you sure?”

“It has some, and the fighter jets help, but it really relies on the other ships in the carrier group to protect it.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah, didn’t you notice all the other ships in the harbor? Those are missile cruisers, destroyers, frigates, and supply ships.  There might be some submarines, too.”

Truth be told, Jude had not taken a whole lot of notice of them, being dwarfed in size and proximity by the carrier. “How do you know all that?”

“I picked it up from here and there.”

“Ok then.” Jude paused in consideration.  “We should head out, but I’m going to leave my phone here, we can use yours.  I hate carrying things.”

 

***

           

“Which one do you want?” Jude pointed at the row of stuffed animals in the back of the booth.

Connor had just returned from an excursion to find snacks while Jude played some games.  He was bearing a bounty of fried dough.  He looked at the game in the booth and the rows of prizes hanging above it.  The game was relatively simple in theory- simply fire a squirt gun at a target, the longer you hit the target, the further along a little race horse moved along the track. The first person to get their horse to the end of the track won.  “You think you can beat me?”

“I already won.” Jude said with a self-satisfied grin.  Much to his own surprise, Jude discovered that he had incredibly good aim. “Which one do you want?”

“You won?” Connor was a little dumbfounded. 

“Why is that such a surprise?” Jude said mischievously.   

The booth operator, having little else to do had been listening. “You know you can double or nothing,” he said to Jude “if you win again, you can get a better prize.” He gestured toward the largest animals strung up around the perimeter of the tent. 

Connor narrowed his eyes and smirked. “That sounds like a challenge.”

 

Jude stared at Connor, then reached into his pocket and pulled out some crumpled bills and slammed them on the counter.  “Two please.”

Connor, not breaking his eye contact with Jude, slid the fried dough onto the counter and growled “you’re on.”

They readied themselves with the little rifle-shaped water guns as the attendant prepared the game.  The lights and music ramped up as a recorded voice announced “on your mark, get set, go!” and with the sound of a tinny starting pistol, the boys began dousing the targets with water.  It was no contest.  Before Connor’s horse was halfway down the track, Jude was raising his arms in victory. “In your face, Stevens!”

“Congratulations, pick your prize.” The attendant said without much of a congratulatory air.  This wasn't his first choice in career.  

“Well, what do you want?” Jude asked again, his self-satisfaction returning and rising to new heights. 

Connor looked around the booth again.  Any sense of shame at having lost vanished as he found the perfect thing. He turned to the attendant and said “I’ll take the Judicorn.”

“The what?” said the attendant.

Connor pointed to the back corner.  There was a large white unicorn with a blue mane hanging by the tail. “That one.”  He kept his hand fixed in the direction of the plush animal and slowly turned his face to Jude.

Jude’s chin angled up a bit as the lids of his eyes lowered and his lips pursed. “I really hate you.”

Connor’s face dropped. “I…” he breathed, his voice hitching.

Jude’s façade cracked and he broke into a smile.  He punched Connor in the arm, laughing.  “That was too easy.”  He was shaking his head.

Connor shoved him back. “God, you’re a jerk.” He chuckled.  Connor took hold of the unicorn as it was being handed over the counter, and the boys started walking away.  The walking-away ended abruptly by a walking-into Taylor and Daria.  

            In no uncertain terms, this encounter was totally unexpected by all four of them. The plan had been to meet, but not right here and not right now.  Between them there were two categories of surprise.  On the part of Taylor and Connor, the run-in was obviously fortuitous, and could not have been more welcome.  They exchanged somewhat perky hellos, as would be shared between friends who had not seen each other in a long time. As was the case.

On the part of Jude and Daria, however, the reaction was not so chipper. It was more along the lines of panic and angst.  Of the four, Daria was the only one in the dark about the plan to meet up, and also why Connor had ended their relationship.  The warm greeting between Taylor and Connor, her breakup with Connor, Jude’s cold greeting, and her own supposition that Jude was into Taylor, worked into Daria’s mind only one thought.  That thought was projected loudly as “What the fuck! You two are dating?”

In a unity of voice that stunned Daria, the three others shouted “No!”

Daria put up her palms in concession to the group’s pronouncement. She then said to Connor “Well, what do you have to say for yourself?”

Taylor cut off Connor immediately “Let’s all talk somewhere more private.”

  
“All of us?” Daria’s confusion was mounting. 

“Yes, all of us.” Taylor grabbed Daria’s arm and proceeded to drag her off the main thoroughfare and through the alley formed by the carnival booths.

The boys simply followed her lead.  About twenty feet in, Taylor ducked into the partially opened flap of a very large tent, the kind of tent one usually finds in a circus. The boys hesitated outside. It was evident that this was some sort of back entrance, and that they really had no business using it. Taylor’s head popped back out “Are you coming or what?” Feeling that they had little choice in the matter, Jude and Connor followed her in. 

The tent was devoid of people other than themselves.  It was not, however, without another occupant. In the center of the tent was an enormous elephant.  It was just standing there, tethered to a stake in the ground, and eating out of a huge bucket of vegetables.  It hardly took notice of the intruding teenagers. 

“Umm, Taylor…” Jude said quietly, pointing at the elephant.

“We all see it, Jude.” Taylor replied. “Now, Connor, I believe you have something to tell Daria.”

Connor was caught off guard equally by the elephant and Taylor’s frank pronouncement.  Daria was in the same position.  Connor tugged at the bottom of his shirt and, looking Daria in the eye, said “I’m gay.”

The look of relief that washed over Daria’s face could have cleaned the ground of the entire carnival.  “I knew it wasn't me!”  Thus marked the return of Daria’s perky self. “But why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

Connor hesitated, not sure if he should start talking.  He knew what needed to be said, but the person that needed to say it wasn’t speaking.  He glanced over at Jude.

Jude was just staring at the elephant.  It really was massive.  He had gotten to thinking about a documentary he had seen on television about trained elephants.  From a very young age, captive elephants are kept tethered to immovable stakes in the ground. Over the course of their youth, they learn that there is no hope of breaking free from the stake. This thought becomes so ingrained that when the circus travels, the stake only needs to be a few inches long. The elephant could easily rip it out and roam free, but it doesn’t because it presumes the stake is immovable.

Jude decided it was time to see if he could take the stake out of the ground. “I asked him not to say anything.” He said to Daria. “I’m gay, too.  He’s my boyfriend.”  In the end, he found it remarkably easy to say.  Of course, letting an elephant roam free in a carnival is not always the best option.  “I want to keep this low key, though.  I don’t want to hide it, I just don’t want to advertise it.”  He looked at the others in the hopes of finding agreement.

“Yeah, I think that’s fair.”  Connor said.

The girls nodded their approval. 

A heavy, wet sensation assailed the side of Jude’s face. The elephant’s trunk was exploring Jude’s features.

“She likes you.” Connor said.

Jude squirmed away from the wandering touch of the trunk.  The elephant resumed its eating.  “I think we should probably get ready for our show.”

“What show?” Daria asked.

“Connor and I are doing a dance thing with my sister.  You should come watch.”

“Oh my god that’s amazing. What are you dancing to?”  Daria was getting excited.

Jude shrugged. “Well, you’ll just have to come and find out.”


End file.
